Model Behavior
by Miguelzinho
Summary: Delphine Delacroix has been supporting her family as a model for over two years now, pushing her dreams of becoming a Pokémon trainer aside in the process.  But when a opportunity presents itself, she quickly embarks upon an adventure unlike any other.
1. Chapter One: All Good Things

"Model Behavior"

_Author's Note: I did not create the world of Pokémon, the creatures within it, nor the basic concept of it. I did, however, create the characters in this story and would like to be asked permission if you wish to use them. This is the first time I have written in a very long time and look forward to reading your insight on the text. I'm a lot older now, but my interest in Pokémon has not changed. Thank you._

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* * *

_

"This is the finale; I need Delphine and Mareep right now!"

I stared at the reflection before me with and puckered my lips as a fine brush alighted upon my cheeks. All set. Mareep softly bleated as we stood in the threshold and waited for the other girl and her Skitty to pass. Adrenaline coursed through my veins. I guess one never does truly get over walking a catwalk. Luckily, I'd be able to use this feeling to my advantage.

"OK, Mareep. Let's rip this runway," I said, my eyes focused at the end of the runway. All the photographers were waiting for me.

Music blared in the background. I could hardly hear anything as I was temporarily deafened by the live band that flanked each side of the ramp. Snot-nosed fashionistas with black, cat-eyed frames and tight chignons sat there in straight-backed chairs, their thin lips pressed into a line, small white notepads with hastily scrawled comments resting on their laps. Hordes of pokémon, the "cute ones" of course, were perched on their owners' shoulders, dazzled by the scene and the flashing lights. Others snored at their feet.

A smirk tugged at the corners of my lips as my fellow model finally passed, making sure to catch my eye as she did. A wink, a knowing smile.

We would give them something to talk about.

The room seemed to come to life once Mareep and I stepped through the door. Cheers and catcalls resounded as I clicked down the hallway in a ridiculously frilly getup and a lacy bonnet. I was the epitome of a young shepherdess, equipped with my rod, my Mareep, rosy cheeks, and ringlets.

It seemed like I had been walking for a very long time, when in reality only thirty seconds had elapsed. I was already nearing the end of the catwalk. It was time to heat things up. I seductively leered at the crowd, searching for a target to shower my attention upon. It didn't take long; for by the time we reached the runway, I had already met the gaze of a young guy with a faux-hawk, big blue eyes, and a large camera in his hand. Cute, I thought. Time to ham it up. With my rod balanced on my right shoulder and the hem of my lifted just high enough to reveal the outrageously expensive shoes I was sporting, I posed as bright lights flashed all around. But it wasn't over.

"Reep!" cried my partner as her sweet voice filled the room and blue sparks went off like fireworks all around us.

The crowd erupted into applause. People were out of their seats, clapping as though their life depended on it. And for some, it did. Fashion was their lives.

I stood there for a few more seconds, reveling in all the applause. Then, placing a hand over my mouth, I coquettishly grinned before turning around and fleeing into the organized maybe that was backstage. My hair trailed behind, capturing a few more moments in the spotlight. Mareep yipped in ecstasy as she scattered more electricity in our wake. The _coup de grâce_.

I couldn't hear anything as a team of people helped me out of my dress and into another one, for the after-party. The night wasn't over just yet.

As I climbed into the roomy, leather interior of the limousine that I was sharing with the other models from the show, I couldn't help but to wonder which one of us would make it to big screens of Viridian City.

We were damn good actresses.

* * *

It was two in the morning and I had only just returned from the after-party thrown by the designer whose clothes I had worn during the fashion show. Sitting at the foot of my small, twin-sized bed, I pried off the three-inch heels that I had been taught to wear to such glitzy events as the one I had just come from. Relief flooded through me as life returned to my aching feet. As if being six feet tall wasn't already enough. Only in the fashion world could I walk around and not feel painfully awkward as people cowered beneath my gaze. Maybe some still did, I thought with a smile. After hanging the heels up on the shoe rack I had bought in order to conserve space and slipping my poor feet into a pair of cushy Buneary slippers, I grabbed my shower caddy from my night-stand and proceeded to the shared bathroom down the hallway.

Model apartments weren't the most luxurious places in the world, but I did find a measure of peace within the confines of my studio apartment. It was a great place to retreat to when everything became too overbearing for me. It was one of the few things that I could call my own.

Life was tough back when I was still at home. In many ways, nothing had changed. Being the eldest of four daughters saw to that. The hours were long, the locations were often far away from home, the conditions very uncomfortable, but the pay was good. That is why I became a model after all. Dad could only do so much with his meager earnings as the owner of a small farmer's market back in Dewford Town. With trainers so few and far between and the low number of people that actually lived in the town, it was hard enough just to break even every month.

It's funny how I began my career as a model. It was still very hard to believe that I had already been in that world for two years. Everything about me had a changed air about it. Everything felt so fake, I thought as I peeled the false Jynx eyelashes from my eyes before storing my contact lenses into their respective case. After turning the faucet on and letting the water run for a few seconds, I splashed my face with warm water and proceeded to wash away all the horribly expensive gunk designed to give the illusion of...perfection? After watching the murky water drain out of the basin, leaving a grey ring around the white porcelain, I concluded that that could not possibly be perfection.

Under the jet of warm water, my thoughts began to wander. I had given up a lot to be where I was at that point in my life. And in that profession, I was reminded of it each and every day.

_They_ were always there. Sometimes they worked alongside me, for what exactly, I could not be sure. But then again, some of them were just as vainglorious as their owners. All of my interactions with them were short-lived; I was lucky if I could spend a day in their company, learning their ways, their gestures, and their abilities. Theirs was a world I had always wanted to be a part of, but one that I had only been able to observe from a distance. In fact, I had been expressly forbidden to do anything other than that.

Dad didn't want me to train pokémon, especially with Mom gone. She had been a trainer when they first met, but she gave it all up once they got married. She stopped smiling soon after that.

Well, almost.

She smiled right after she had brought Jubilee into this world.

Then she died.

* * *

"Have you seen this?" asked Jacquelyn as she thrust the latest tabloid into my lap at the agency. With her frizzy blond hair hastily pulled into a bun, revealing her startlingly large, brown eyes, she looked about ready to explode.

I had made the front cover.

"No."

A deep scarlet bloomed in her cheeks as she snatched the paper back out of my lap and smacked it down onto her glass desk. I didn't flinch. She was prone to such outbursts, so why entertain them anymore? "Do you even care that you're the freshest face in all of Hoenn?"

I raised my eyebrow at her.

"You're impossible!" she sighed, throwing up her hands in the air in a sign of defeat. "I don't know how you're continuing to book show after show and shoot after shoot with that horrendous attitude of yours. It's absolutely atrocious!"

I smiled.

"Oh yeah. _That_." Shaking her head in disapproval, she added that millions of girls would be jumping in the air, shrieking at the top of their lungs at the thought of making the cover of Pokémon Match.

"Most girls wouldn't have even made it past the front door of this agency," I said nonchalantly, looking out of the window into the concrete jungle that surrounded us. Pidgey flew around in small, tight formations, zipping around the skyscrapers with ease. In the sky, the sun shone brightly without a cloud in sight. I longed to be outside, enjoying the fresh air with those Pidgey, but alas I could not. There was work to do. All that I could do was watch them.

So free...

"Ungrateful wench," Jacquelyn grumbled as she furiously tapped at the keys of her computer. It was completely clear except for the plasma screen. From afar, it looked as though it were just floating in the air.

I continued to gaze out of the window and enjoy the momentary silence. It was like that all of the time. Every time I came into the agency, she would tell me an interesting tidbit of news about how great my modeling career was going only to go into a tizzy after witnessing my blatant disregard for the whole affair. I made her miserable and a part of me was highly amused by the power that I had over her. Indeed, if I had not come to her rescue after giving her an antidote for her Beedrill sting when she was on a retreat with her cronies at the agency back in Dewford Town, I would have never been discovered. I was mindful of that. She knew that I wouldn't be leaving the agency anytime soon. I couldn't fathom having my family struggle like they did before.

But if there was one thing that my father was good at, it was making a dollar go a long way. Their standard of living had improved noticeably, but much of the money I sent was being stored in separate accounts for my sisters' schooling. Well, for two of them. Jasmine and Yasmine would become the doctor and lawyer of the bunch. Jubilee had run off to be a pokémon trainer. We hadn't heard from her in months. I wondered how she was doing...

After a few moments, Jacquelyn finally spoke up. With her nose slightly raised so that I could see into the depths of her cavernous nostrils, she said with a snooty air, "Well, it seems that _someone_ has fallen under your spell. If they knew who you _really _are, then maybe they'd think twice."

"What is it?" I asked, not buying into her game.

The act didn't last for long. "Well! it seems as though the mega-producer Ronald Writing has developed this great new idea for a reality TV-"

"HELL NO!" I said, standing up abruptly. There was a collective gasp amongst all of the people in the agency. All eyes and ears were on me.

"WILL YOU STOP MAKING SUCH A SCENE? By Jove!" Jacquelyn said in a loud whisper before yanking me back down to my seat. I angrily began to tap my feet on the ground. I could feel the blood rushing to my face. My cheeks began to burn. Who did she take me for?

After quickly glancing from the side to side for onlookers, she took my hand in hers and asked, exasperatedly, "Delphine, will you at least hear me out?"

I yanked my hand out of her grasp. There were two types of people in the pokémon fashion industry: those who did what they wanted and those that allowed what they wanted to _do_ them. I considered myself to be of the former mold. It was one of the few things I prided myself upon.

"Jacquelyn, I told you that commercials were as far as I would go! I REFUSE TO-"

"But you could finally train pokémon!" she blurted out all at once.

I clutched my heart. The air had suddenly become very thick under the gravity of the moment. My pulse quickened.

_Damn!_ I thought. I had become one of _them_.

* * *

"What the hell am I doing?" I said to myself as I scurried along the cobblestone streets of historic district of Goldenrod City. The click-clack of heels and the collective grumble of the crowd on neighboring streets were my only solace that I wasn't the only person wandering those streets at night.

It seemed like I had been walking around for a very long time. Too long. Jacquelyn's directions had been a little more than off so I had had to ask for directions on numerous occasions. I checked my watch. Five minutes late already. This couldn't be good. Punctuality was something my Dad had instilled in all of us. It felt bad to let him down. Shaking my head in disbelief, I continued onwards.

In the distance, I could see flashing lights and cars. Civilization. It must be a main road, I reasoned. All I had to do was traverse that alley and the restaurant should be right there at the corner. But as I was walking through, I had this tingling sensation that I wasn't alone.

My suspicions were confirmed once I felt something furry rub against my leg.

"AH!"

I bolted as fast I could out of the alley, never turning once to look back at what had bumped into me.

By the time I had made it to the restaurant, I knew that I looked a hot mess. The model in me smoothed the skirt of my dress and smoothed down my hair. The girl in me wondered if my makeup had smudged. But the human in me just wanted to get the whole thing over with. After being lost and almost having a potentially dangerous encounter with a pokémon, my resolve had suffered a terrible blow.

Once I walked through the double doors of the lounge, I immediately began to look for the man with slick, gray hair. Only when I was unable to spot him amongst all the ritzy urbanites with carefully-coiffed hair and tailored suits did I realized that he was probably in an even richer section of the restaurant. Duh. Rolling my eyes, I walked over to the hostess.

"Hi, I'm here to have dinner with a Mister-"

"Hold on please," she charged in with a dismissive flourish of her quill. A quill? Who did she think she was? Puzzled and more than slightly ticked off, I waited for her to finish writing in her notepad for what seemed like two minutes, but she didn't seem to have any intent on stopping anytime soon.

I cleared my throat.

"Yes?" she barked, looking me straight into eyes.

A challenge.

"I am quite certain that you do not speak to all of your clients with such disrespect. I have been waiting here patiently for longer than any client should have to at a chic establishment such as this. Your manager will be quite upset once I tell him how _well _you're doing your job." I was positively fuming, more than anything I wanted to cave her face in. One had to be aggressive in that world.

Then suddenly, I felt a hand on my shoulder. A soothing voice followed, "Indeed, I would."

The hostess's face quickly took upon a ghastly pallor. "Mr. Writing!" she squeaked.

I whirled around to see this man for myself, expecting to see a tall, lanky man dressed in a fine Italian suit, but to my surprise, I didn't see anything at all.

"Ahem, down here, Miss Delacroix!"

I almost fell to the grown when I realized this man couldn't have been any taller than my elbows. He had the makings of a small beer belly too. Quickly I tried to wipe the look of disbelief from my face, but I was afraid that he had already noticed it.

"Very well, it is I," he said, waving his hand. "I get that a lot," he added with a wink before turning to his employee. "But one thing that I do not _get_ are unhappy customers. I will not tolerate such disregard of propriety in my restaurant. Take the night off young lady."

Without any objection whatsoever, she darted away as quickly as a Rapidash.

"I pray that you were not horribly offended," he said with a gallant bow that brought a smile to my lips.

"I think I'll be all right. Thanks." I reached for his hand. "It really is a pleasure to meet you Mr. Writing. It truly is an honor."

In one swift, adept movement, he took my hand in his and planted a light kiss upon it. "Why, Miss Delacroix, the pleasure is truly all mine. How often do I get the chance to dine with the loveliest young woman to grace the catwalks in decades? Come! Sit." I admired the way he could be so kind and lavish in his attentions, yet authoritative and firm at the same time.

I hoped that he wasn't trying to get in my pants.

"Very simply put, Miss Delacroix, I think that you would be a fine addition to the house. You're already very visible in the Pokémon world. This show could only enhance your level of celebrity."

"I don't know, Mr. Writing. This is a lot to grasp. I don't know how I could do with cameras around me 24/7."

"Well, Miss Delacroix-"

"Please. Call me Delphine, sir."

"Delphine, if you will," he said, chuckling to himself. "I believe that you're rather used to being surrounded by cameras all day. You are a model, are you not?"

"Yes," I said, not sure of what he was hinting at.

"And naturally, whether you realize it or not, you're always under the scrutiny of the public eye. For all we know, somebody could have been taking pictures of you during that little tiff with the hostess earlier this evening..."

"About that sir," I said. "I'm really so-"

"She's fired," he said, his lips never ceasing to smile. I was taken aback by how decisively he had said that. There was an unsettling feeling that played with my insides. Was it fear?

"Really, sir. I don't think-"

"She had no right to treat you in such a brusque manner. You deserve respect. Not many people can do what you do." He placed his hands on the table and proceeded to enlace his fingers, one with the other. "Delphine, if I had any doubt in my mind about choosing you to be a part of the house, then you would not be here now. Things will only go up from here." He took my hands in his. "I promise."

So basically I would be spending one month wandering around this unexplored island off the coast of Sinnoh called Pearl Island that was supposedly chockfull of various species of pokémon. There would be nineteen other participants, nine of which would be various influential people in the media, with the other ten being pokémon trainers at various stages of their careers. At the end of the month, there would be a grand tournament to see who would come out on top. The prize would be one hundred thousand dollars and instant fame. Many people had already been auditioning for months to be on the show. I had been one of the few that were handpicked by Mr. Writing himself. I was to be "The Model". A pokémon would be conferred unto me upon my arrival.

I peered deeply into his eyes. They were dark, yet there was a glint behind them. A murky light gleaming beneath the surface. I wanted to trust them; really, I did. After all, this was perhaps one of my only chances to ever do what I had dreamed of doing for nearly ten years.

After Jubilee was born and Mom had died, I had searched every part of my being to figure out what the magic was behind this world that had left my mother in such a hollow state, what it was that made her smile for the first time in over seven years on her deathbed immediately after she had just given life.

I needed to know.

Every time I looked into the mirror, I was reminded that the very things that put me in this position in life had been hers. Her smooth chocolate skin. Her stony gray eyes flecked with green. Her long, white hair. Her willowy frame. All of our lives, the last thing that Dad wanted was for us to be like her. We were forbidden to train pokémon. "It doesn't pay the bills," he would say.

But this could...if I were to win.

And if I lost? It wouldn't matter! I could just go back to modeling. I could probably book even more shoots and more fashion shows than I did at the time, and in other continents! It didn't have to end there.

This wasn't exactly how I had envisioned my entry into the world of pokémon training, but then again, maybe this was an omen of great things to come. I had to take it, I had to say..

"Yes." A film of tears glazed over my eyes. "I'll do it."

Mr. Writing grinned. "Excellent." Then he leaned back into his chair, and took a sip of his berry martini. Extra dry.

Never before had alcohol looked so tempting.

* * *

I didn't sleep the next night. I would be flying out to Pearl Island at ten the next morning. Everything was moving so quickly, I barely knew what was going on.

A big part of the reason why I couldn't sleep the night before was that I was nervous about the show and about raising pokémon. It was surreal. I couldn't believe what was happening, yet it was all that I could think about.

But there was something else that weighed heavily on my mind.

I hadn't told Dad about it.

There I sat next to the lone window in my studio, my cell phone clutched tightly in my hand. Below me I could see the city, ever abuzz with life and light. At that time of morning, the stars were just beginning to fade away and give way to the rising sun. Dad was always awake at the crack of dawn, as was the farmer's way, so I knew that he would be awake.

After contemplating my phone for five minutes as if in a trance, I pressed the "2" key until Home showed up on the screen. The phone rang once, twice, three times before someone answered.

"Hello?"

It was Yasmine. I could tell by the even quality of her voice. It never gave away too much.

"Hey Yaz, it's Delphine."

"Hey. How are you?" She seemed happy enough to hear from me, though one could never be quite sure.

"Great, great. How's school?"

"Straight As."

"Wow! That's amazing!" I cheered. Both the twins were very smart, but Jasmine was a bit more prone to the random B. She wasn't as much of a machine as her twin sister. "Listen," I said, wanting to get off the phone with her as quickly as possible. "Is Dad around?"

"Yes, one second."

Once he was on the line, we made small talk for a few moments about things. We talked about the weather, the twins' grades, and how he hadn't heard from Jubilee since she'd left.

No word. No word at all.

"I'm sure that she's taking good care of herself out there. She's a very independent girl. Kind of reminds me of myself," I said, trying to soothe the festering wound that she had left him with.

"But you would never go off and train...you-know-what!"

I coughed.

"Are you sick?"

Silence on my end of the phone. "Erm, no. Actually, the reason why I was calling you was to tell you that I'll be sending some money off today..." I let my voice linger on the "ay" diphthong as I searched for the courage to make a complete though. "...And that I'll be on TV sometime next week."

"Another fashion show? Which designer?" Truth be told, my father was my biggest fan. He lavished in the praise that he received for having such beautiful daughters. He bought every magazine that I was featured in and recorded every fashion show. The girls idolized me. I could do no wrong.

"Actually, I'm going to star in a reality TV show."

The line went silent. My heart was beating so loudly, it was as if my ears were plugged and that was all I could hear.

"It's not one of those _dating_ shows is it?"

"No, not at all," I reassured him. "Actually, it's about pokémon."

"_What about them?_" he asked through gritted teeth.

My palms began to sweat.

It was now or never. I took in a deep gulp of air.

"I'll be training them-"

"Keep your own, goddamn money," he seethed.

The line went dead on the other end.


	2. Chapter Two: We've Only Just Begun

"Model Behavior"

_Author's Note: I did not create the world of Pokémon, the creatures within it, nor the basic concept of it. I did, however, create the characters in this story and would like to be asked permission if you wish to use them. This is the first time I have written in a very long time and look forward to reading your insight on the text. I'm a lot older now, but my interest in Pokémon has not changed. Thank you._

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* * *

_

"I can't believe this shit," I grumbled as a mousy-looking woman with a rack of different clothes-training gear and, of all things, couture dresses-filed into my apartment, her body shrinking beneath my penetrating gaze. There it was, just a half-hour before I was to catch a taxi to the airport that I discovered that I was being sponsored on my trip by a burgeoning fashion house. This was good news and all because it could only mean more work with that client in the future and, thus, more money for my-

My eyes began to well with tears as it sunk in that, until my father told me otherwise, I was more or less dead in his eyes. I gnashed my teeth in an attempt to dam the flood that I had allowed to flow so freely just hours before.

When the operator had told me in that monotonous drone of hers the amount of remaining credit in my account, the phone slipped from my hands and fell to the floor, breaking in half, the screen and the keypad separated, never to meet again. I couldn't take my eyes from it. I had looked until tears obscured my vision. My body quaked with each violent spasm and my throat burned with each choking sob.

A lone tear traced the slope of my cheek. Trying to cover it, I strode to the door and paused at the threshold. I could feel eyes being drilled into the back of my head. But they weren't accusatory eyes. No, these were kind, caring eyes.

I craned my neck ever so slightly so that the frumpy assistant could catch just a glimpse of my steely gray eyes.

"I expect for you to be gone by the time I return."

A loud shuffling ensued as she resumed her work, but her apologies fell upon deaf ears. I was already out of the room.

I'd be damned if anyone in that business ever saw me cry.

The flight had been a comfortable one to say the least. My agency always made sure that I was at my utmost comfort. I had learned to allow myself to be pampered in spite of my rustic upbringing, although it had required some getting used to.

There I stood, at the crosswalk, waiting for a lone car ambling up the street to pass so that I could cross the street. The port was straight ahead. From afar, I could see a rather large crowd of people, all abuzz with activity as a flashy designer yacht slowly pulled into port.

The smell of the salty, ocean air reminded me of the free time I used to spend at the rocky beaches along the coast of Dewford Town. I would lay down a tattered blanket-my old receiving blanket in fact-and sit there. Cross-legged. My mind would drift and I would feel at peace with the world.

Being poor had not seemed so bad. Of course, we never had been able to go on family vacations or partake of other such luxuries, but I had internalized in my mind that nothing could be better than having a beach right in my backyard.

Could this be?

With my suitcase in hand, I crossed the street, my eyes never leaving the people on the dock. Originally, I had packed only enough clothes and supplies for a duffel bag, but my agency hadn't been particularly keen on me wearing the same outfit more than once, apparently. Business is business and I still had products to sell.

If my face betrayed the emotions that I was feeling, I would have never known by the way people made way for me as I joined the crowd. A part of me thought that I should mingle with my fellow contestants, some of which I recognized upon first sight. There were actors, actresses, a famous designer, a radio show personality, another model, and even a politician, the Mayor of Celadon City. He had been very popular in his day as Celadon was deemed the cleanest and most beautiful of all the large cities in the Pokémon world. Aside from them, there was a smattering of trainers, none of which I could particularly recognize. I never had had a television growing up. Books and hard work had been my refuge. They all seemed smug enough, undoubtedly feeling that they would have the advantage in the competition.

I was unimpressed.

Indifferent towards their gloating, I found my way to a smooth railing at the bow of the boat. The yacht cut effortlessly through the ocean. Waves rolled back like layers of old skin, their foamy crests disappearing on the slippery white flesh of the Dewgong that enjoyed some twilight entertainment before heading off to deeper, colder waters.

Before long, I felt the drum of footsteps approaching me. My heart sank. I would have to be friendly if someone was coming to talk to me.

"I see that you've got your black bitch routine on lock."

So much for being nice.

* * *

I grinned, turning to face the person who had dared to insult me so brazenly. As I turned, I could see other people doing the same. In less than a second, cameras were all around me. I hadn't noticed them before, but at that moment, they became glaringly obvious.

I recognized her right away. It was Minerva. Apparently she had been a force not to be reckoned with on the catwalks a few years. But lately, she had been starting and closing less and less shows. It had all started about two years prior to this moment.

"I'll brush off what you just said," I said calmly, still facing the ocean. The sun was setting over the dense jungle of the island, spilling streaks of violet, fuchsia, and orange onto the great canvas of the sky. It was startlingly beautiful and I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to admire it as I had wanted.

Turning to face my interlocutor, I quickly sized her up. She was about an inch taller than me, bright Blissey-pink eyes, with short magenta hair that was vaguely tomboyish, and a small dimpled chin. I hated that I had to look up to her as her height already commanded attention, but I bore into her eyes without hesitation.

"But do tell me this: is your agency paying you more to start trouble with me, or are you just that kind of person?"

The crowd closed in around us and the air had become horribly thick with anticipation and speculation.

She seemed taken aback by my unresponsiveness, as she shifted her weight from her left side to the right. She was bluffing.

"You just watch your back! I'm taking back what is rightfully mine," she sneered, turning her back to me, preparing to make her grand exit to the other side of the boat.

"If you're talking about your career," I said, pausing after career so that I was sure to have her attention, "then you may already be too late." I took a step forward, innocently tilted my head, and pouted my lips. "And you and I _both_ know how fickle this business is, don't we?"

With her back still turned to me, she retorted, "Yes, and then you will be replaced by someone else."

The thought of losing my career didn't really phase me at that moment. In the short time that I was modeling, I had earned more than my parents had been able to when we were growing up. And I was responsible enough to know how to save for a rainy day. At that point in my life, I had had nothing to lose financially. It could only go up from there. Yet in light of all that, a fleeting sense of anxiety washed over me at the thought of the uncertainty of my future.

I turned back to face the island. The sun had already dipped below the canopies of the trees. Damn.

I chuckled to myself.

"Just like you were."

The only audible sounds were that of heels furiously making their way across the wooden floor of the boat and the dull roar of people slowly picking up from where they had left off.

* * *

Pearl Island, as I mentioned before, is a small island many miles off the west coast of Sinnoh that was full of countless species of pokémon. It was one of the true sanctuaries that remained in the Pokémon World but, with his fame and his fortune, Mr. Writing was able to secure the construction of a lone house on Milky Beach and a large stadium in the heart of the Luminescent Forest, but only after promising that it would all be donated to research at the conclusion of the show.

As you can imagine, this was no ordinary house. Inside there was an opulence that I would never again bear witness to for as long as I lived. There were ten rooms, two large co-ed bathrooms—much to my dismay—, a completely modern kitchen, a large study with gigantic windows that gave a spectacular view of the ocean, a Nautilus gym with many adjoining training courts, and finally, a dining room with a long marble table among other things.

That is where we all were at the moment. A sumptuous feast of regional delicacies had been prepared for us by professional cooks hailing from all corners of the world. The sounds of animated voices filled the air as people continued to rattle on about their personal experiences in their respective fields.

Ever since the scene on the boat, many people had gravitated towards me. The attention was nice, I supposed, but I had never been of a gregarious nature. I had always been rather reserved, though I could turn it up when I needed to. I wasn't in it to make friends, but at the same time, I wasn't there to turn people away from me either.

But there was one person that seemed to be a bit more down to earth than the others. Her name was Lucie. I liked her cool, easygoing demeanor. She too had grown up on a farm, as her denim overalls, blue tube top, and braided ponytails attested to. She never seemed to be in too much of a hurry and she always appeared at ease.

"So how long have you been a pokémon trainer?" I asked, curious about her past and her ambitions for being there.

"Well," she said with a thick, though very endearing drawl, "I reckon I've been on the road for about three years now."

I nodded, taking it all in. She must be a really good trainer then, I thought, wondering which pokémon her team consisted of.

We continued to shoot the breeze for a few minutes later. It was already settled that we would room together for the duration of the show and for the first time I felt that maybe the show wouldn't be so bad after all.

"So tell me, Delphine," Lucie began, her rectangular-framed black plastic glasses sliding down the bridge of her fine nose. "Do you have any pokémon of your own?"

I told her that I did not, but that soon that would change, as the people that did not already possess pokémon, or just the celebrities, in other words, were to be given their pokémon at any moment.

"I wasn't allowed to be around pokémon for most of my life," I admitted, surprised at how freely I was discussing my past with this otherwise complete stranger.

Lucie let out a horrified gasp. "A life without pokémon?" She was scandalized at the thought.

"But once I started modeling, I've been able to interact with pokémon on a regular basis. That's got to count for something," I added, my eyes squinting as I started to giggle. It had been so long since I had genuinely enjoyed talking with another person my age. She had just celebrated her sixteenth birthday the week before. I was already seventeen.

Lucie shook her head in amazement as she rested her heart-shaped face on her upturned palm. "A real live fashion model! Well I'll be darned! I never thought that you would be so nice, especially after that scuffle on the boat! You're a tough customer!"

"Ugh, don't even remind me of that," I groaned as I took a spoonful of the delectable crème brûlée that we had been prepared for dessert.

Then Lucie leaned in a bit closer, her warm, cocoa eyes widening in excitement. She put her hand up, covering a part of her face. "I dare say that that Minerva is one rotten egg if ever there was a one."

I could barely contain myself. Perhaps I would have described her a bit more colorfully, but Lucie had more or less hit the Psyduck on the head with that witty observation. Soon, she joined in and the chorus of our laughter seemed to engulf all the other conversations in the room. The truth was that I hadn't laughed so hard in ages.

"Lucie, you really are a piece of work. I—"

"GOOD EVENING, LADIES AND GENTLEMAN!"

The chatter was immediately thrown out the window as everyone jumped in their seats, wondering where that booming voice had come from. All the lights dimmed, creating a very warm, intimate environment. Then, a large spotlight appeared, landing on a sharply-dressed man in a crisp tuxedo standing on a raised podium that seemed to have sprouted from the ground.

"I am Ronald Writing, of Writing Entertainment, and creator of this show, When Worlds Collide."

A few of the celebrities began to clap loudly, well-versed in the etiquette of kissing ass. At first, the trainers exchanged confused looks before eventually shrugging their shoulders and joining in the applause. After a few seconds, Mr. Writing raised his hand, and in that one precise movement, brought the room to complete and utter silence.

"This is a show unlike any other. People from all walks of life, of all echelons of society, are here, all united under one common feeling: the love of pokémon. It is a great occasion, indeed...

You will all face countless challenges, some unlike any you have ever experienced in your life. Some will succeed, others will fail. It all depends on you and your ability to become masters and mistresses of the situation, and your courage to overcome them...

Although the main premise of the show is celebrities versus actual pokémon trainers, ultimately, everyone is on his/her own. There will be no challenges or tests, but you are all required to have at least three other pokémon though no more than six by the time the Championships begin. Battle each other at your own discretion, but remember: practice makes perfect.

Lastly, there is no correct way to play this game. It is entirely up to you. Part of the challenge in training pokémon is that everyone has to figure out what works the best for him/her...

At this point, I am sure that you all know what is on the line here. One hundred thousand dollars will be awarded to the winner of the Pearl Island Championship Games and on top of that is the fame and recognition, as well as the countless endorsements and business opportunities, that come with celebrity...

Now! I am sure that all of the celebrities are raring to see their partners for the next few weeks. On this table are boxes that contain the pokémon that my team and I have carefully selected for each participant along with a brand-new Pokédex. I wish you all good luck with your new friends and with one another. The games have just begun!" And with that concluding remark, Mr. Writing descended from the podium and watched us all approach the table to collect our pokémon, like a proud father on Christmas morning.

"I bet you'll get a great pokémon, Delphine!" Lucie told me with a reassuring wink.

All of the celebrities were rather composed as they walked to the table, not wanting to appear overtly excited. They had to maintain a visual edge over the pokémon trainers, who often wore their hearts on their sleeves. They didn't want anything to appear in the tabloids that could potentially tarnish their images.

By the time I reached the table, I was boiling over in excitement. I could tell in how frantically my eyes darted from box to box, searching for my name. Before long, I spotted it. _Delphine Delacroix _was there, written in a neat, flowing, Edwardian script. I scooped up the box and headed back to the table, beaming. The weight of my future was in my hands. Imagine that.

The way back to the table seemed shorter than I remembered it. I couldn't take my eyes off the box. My own name resounded in my mind. I could hear nothing else except for the scrambled thoughts, plans, and expectations. I couldn't believe that it was finally happening.

Then, unexpectedly, another thought crossed my mind. I wondered if Mom had felt like that when she got her first pokémon. Before I had time to dwell on it, I ran into something hard. Very hard. I fell back a little, windmilling to catch my balance.

"I thought you were taught to look up when you're walking," said a clear, baritone voice, almost like a clarion call. There wasn't a hint of hostility.

I whipped my head up to see who I had crashed into. I didn't like how matter-of-factly he had uttered those words, especially since I was sure that he knew nothing about me. But when my eyes landed on a pair of bright blue eyes, I frowned upon the realization that perhaps he did. It was that photographer that I had seen at my last fashion show, then one that I had..._performed_ for. The cute one.

He looked different up close. The first thing I noticed was how tall he was. As the tallest person in my family, I wasn't used to feeling so small when standing face to face with other people. Maybe it was something else that I was feeling. I noticed that lustrous glow of his tan and how it seemed to enhance bulge of his muscular arms, which cut a striking image against the black pinstriped vest he wore over his ribbed, white tank.

My cheeks began to burn.

"S-s-sor—"

"Don't," he whispered, with a lop-sided grin that softened his strong jawline and high cheekbones. I wondered why he wasn't a model—that is, until I mentally slapped myself for even thinking such a thing. "Models are never sorry for anything." With that, he strode off, leaving me there. Absolutely dumbfounded.

I didn't like the feeling.

I both mentally and physically shook myself before returning to my seat. I could hear whispers as I passed each successive chair. I didn't even _want _to know what they were saying about me.

"_GOLLY! _What was _that_ that I just saw?" Lucie cried from across the table, her cheeks flushed in excitement.

"Nothing. It was nothing at all."

"That's not what it looked like!"

"Let's drop it," I hissed. It wasn't a suggestion: it was a demand.

I hurriedly opened up the box, wanting to take my mind off of that man and focus on the task at hand. True to Mr. Writing's word, there was a shiny silver Pokédex and an even more impressive Pokéball sitting next to it. My heart thumped loudly as I removed it from the box and held it up to my eyes. Then, I clicked the ball. It doubled before my very eyes, just like on TV! I debated on whether I should say something as I released the pokémon within. It wasn't long though before I ruefully decided that that wasn't exactly my style. Instead, I clicked the button and watched as a beam of red light pooled onto the table, slowly but surely revealing the identity of of my first pokémon.

While this all was happening, Lucie, along with many other people, had all crowded around me and were eagerly trying to catch a glimpse of the competition. This troubled me, for in retrospect, I realized that I should have done this in a more private place.

But in any case, I don't know what I was expecting the pokémon to be, but that which stood before me clearly was far from it. My brow raised as I gave the pokémon a once over.

It wasn't very large, maybe about two feet tall or so. Its body was a bright mauve, bordering on red violet, and...bulbous. Or maybe round was better word to describe it. Rotund. There it was. Its large, goofy looking ears flopped over towards the front, shielding its eyes from view. Small, primitive arms covered its mouth as it shook uncontrollably. It looked...scared.

"Erm, hey there. My name's Delphine. I'm your new trainer!" I said in the most cheerful voice that I could muster. I couldn't help but think that it fell a little flat, especially since the pokémon began to shake with a renewed vigor.

"Come on," I said, leaning forward. I had read somewhere that pokémon were less intimidated when you approached them at eye-level, so I sat down accordingly and moved in closer. "Let's see your eyes."

I slowly reached for its ears and gently lifted them up. They were impeccably soft to the touch. Its eyes were small and black. They looked almost unseeing at first sight, but when they widened in horror upon beholding my visage, I knew that indeed they were not. The pokémon's mouth was now agape, as if in shock. We stayed like this for a few seconds. Then, feeling the need to break the ice, I put forth my best smile and said, "See, nothing to be afraid of. We're going to be—"

But I never finished my sentence, for before I could pronounce "friends", a deafening cry pierced the air and rebounded off the walls. It was so forceful that it blasted me, along with my newfound entourage, back several feet until we all crashed into the nearest wall. All around, people clutched their ears and closed their eyes in agony, their mouths open in silent screams. But nothing that they could have produced could have possibly compared to the scream emanating from this pokémon. Everything seemed to be in slow motion. Through one eye, I managed to glimpse it on the table with its little arms flailing in the air, tears streaming from its eyes.

We all writhed on the floor in a heap, like a pit of Seviper, as I frantically searched for my Pokéball. I felt as though I would lose my hearing all together if this continued any longer.

Once I found it, I raised a tremulous arm and mumbled "Return!" before collapsing onto the floor. I could still hear a ringing in my ear.

A few seconds later, once everyone had picked themselves up from the floor, we all returned to our seats to grab our things to head off to bed. That night had proved a little too eventful after all. People whispered amongst themselves, looking back at me from time to time before turning back to talk about me some more. I fixed them with my iciest stare, but something told me that my power had been visibly shaken and that from that point onwards, intimidation would no longer work in my favor. No, not after that fiasco.

Mr. Writing bid us all a good night as we passed his podium. My posture had slipped. My head hung low and I shook it from side to side in disbelief. Of all the pokémon in the world. _OF ALL THE POKÉMON IN THE WORLD!_

"It seems you've got your work cut out for you," he said, his eyes squinted in mirth.

I looked at him with narrowed, accusatory eyes.

"No shit."

They'll probably bleep that out in editing.


	3. Chapter Three: Who Knew?

"Model Behavior"

_Author's Note: I did not create the world of Pokémon, the creatures within it, nor the basic concept of it. I did, however, create the characters in this story and would like to be asked permission if you wish to use them. This is the first time I have written in a very long time and look forward to reading your insight on the text. I'm a lot older now, but my interest in Pokémon has not changed. Thank you._

_

* * *

_

_I was floating in a dark, negative space as ominous voices spoke words of disapproval, vaguely reminiscent of Judgment Day or something of that ilk. The voices rose with each passing second, building in intensity. _

_Then, just when I thought that I could not possibly take any more of it, the voices would all of sudden become one familiar voice, vaguely familiar, but familiar nonetheless. I looked all around for this voice, turning in endless circles, until finally I stopped when I heard my name. _

_A woman stood before me, draped in white. At her feet there was a small pokémon that too was pure white except for the gray circles on its cheeks. It loomed up at me with large, sparkling eyes. When I took a step forward, it let out a shrill cry and dove behind the folds of the woman's cascading gown. Maybe she was its trainer. _

_An irresistible force commanded my attention. My eyes jerked away from the pokémon as my gaze was redirected to the woman. Then, overcome with tenderness, I reached out my hands and lovingly touched her face, wondering if she were real. She merely stood there, stoic in both her stance and her countenance even as I wrapped my arms around her tall, slim figure in a tight embrace and lay my head upon her bosom. _

_I could feel her heart beating._

_"Delphine," she would say, her voice as faint as a whisper, and immediately I raised my head to look into eyes that, in spite of their savageness, exuded a silent, though alarming, sadness. It was a look that I had seen every day for many, many years._

_"Yes," I squeaked, my voice cracking beneath the weight of the whirlwind of emotions I was experiencing at the time. Could it be? _

_A look of lingering pain combined with the look of acceptance of a person that has been suffering for a very long time showed on her face. She smiled with squinted eyes, as if the effort were draining the very life out of her._

_"Trust," she said._

_

* * *

_

I slowly walked over to the window in the room that Lucie and I shared. She was still asleep, snoring lightly. I smiled, for a second wishing that I could sleep as peacefully as she appeared to be sleeping right then. For the past few nights, my slumber had been ravished by a nightmare that lingered with me for the rest of the day, only to be repeated the following night. I was both grumpy from being tired and tired of being grumpy. Very little was going according to plan.

The sky was still dark, though at the horizon where the cobalt blue water of the ocean seemed to fall off the face of the World, I discerned flares of soft, pale yellow. Out of habit, I was often awake at the crack of dawn for that was when our day would begin back in Dewford Town. More than ever I thought about home, even more than I had when I first moved away to pursue my modeling career.

At home, there was never this persistent uncertainty that had come about ever since that disastrous _rencontre _with Whismur in the dining hall. Everything had had its place there. Before I began to model, my future had already been laid out for me. I would go to school for business and then come back home to figure out how to keep my father's shop from going under once and for all. I had both the grades and the quick wit for it. Part of the reason why my father even allowed me to model was that he could see its utility as hands-on experience, which I could only benefit from in the long run. My teachers would comment highly on my way of thinking outside the box to produce favorable results. It was a tactic that I had hoped to use once I began to train pokémon.

But how could I worry about strategies when I couldn't even get my pokémon to look me in the eye?

I tried to place myself in his shoes. Maybe if I were a small pink pokémon with no obvious defenses against others, then maybe I would cry if I saw a six-foot tall woman with brown skin, white hair, and gray eyes. This is what I constantly had to tell myself in order not to dwell on the fact that my first pokémon was a complete disappointment.

A part of me felt horrible for feeling that way for in the Pokémon World it was well known that great things could come in small packages. And though I would never communicate any of this to Lucie, or to Whismur himself, I couldn't help that every time I saw the other celebrities and trainers bonding with their pokémon friend, I regretted ever signing up for the show.

And in spite of myself, I found that it hurt me. A lot.

Finally, I had been one step closer to realizing a dream of mine and one of the final keys was in my hand. But right when I was ready to open that door, I had discovered the true meaning of it all. It was all just a fluke and the key in my hand was a skeleton key; and unfortunately it happened to be the one that didn't work. On top of that, what irked me the most was that Mr. Writing and all the creative minds behind the show played it off as all some sort of joke: giving me a Whismur as a starting pokémon. Well-intentioned or not, they wanted to see me squirm and for once, this was something that I couldn't cover, especially not with my very own camera man following me around!

I supposed that it I had brought it all upon myself. Maybe the gods intended this as a punishment for the horrible way that I treated people as a model. Yeah, I was devoted to my family and did my best to honor and serve them, but the modeling business had toughened me to the point of callousness. As the oldest, I had had to be strong, for my sisters and even for my father, but when it came to the point where people were afraid to approach me, then wasn't something terribly wrong about that?

Where was the Delphine that would willingly miss school to man the fruit stand when Dad was sick, that rocked Jubilee to sleep every night, and that helped Jasmine and Yasmine review for their tests?

A sudden stirring in the room stunned me out of my deep reflection. I was thankful for it; all of that time for thinking was driving me positively insane.

"Mornin', buddy!" Lucie chirped as she propped herself on her elbows, smiled, and peered at me with eyelids still heavy with sleep.

"Good morning."

"Didja sleep all right? I heard some tossin' and turnin' when I got up to use the bathroom in the middle of the night," she asked as she pulled the blanket away from her body and placed her feet on the ground.

"Not really. I had this strange dream, the same one I've been happening since the other night with Whismur."

She whistled. "I see. Well, if you ever wanna talk about it, then feel free to—"

"Thanks," I cut in, "but I think it's something I'm going to have figure out on my own."

She threw her hands up in the air in defeat. "Just know I'm here for you if you ever come 'round."

I smiled at her from the window, a silent thanks. "So what are your plans for today?"

"I'm gonna head down to the beach and do some training with my pokémon. We've slacked off a lot since we got here but now I'm ready to get back to work and start challengin' some of these big shots to some battles. How 'bout you?"

"I was actually thinking of going down to the beach to watch the sunrise myself."

"Well come on, girl. We ain't got no time to waste!"

With one great swoop, I flattened out and then laid down the large beach blanket that I had brought for me and Lucie to sit on. Once everything was settled, I laid out a small assortment of fruit and yogurt for our breakfast. Lucie furrowed in her bag for a moment before retrieving a small round dish. Then, she plucked off a Pokéball from a friendship bracelet that had previously been surrounded by numerous charms, kissed it, and said, "Rise and shine!" Once the red beam disappeared, a cute sheep pokémon with yellow wool remained.

"Morning, Mareep! How are ya feeling this morning?" she asked, cheerfully hugging the pokémon close to her and nuzzling it with her cheek.

"Mareep, mare!" he squealed.

I turned away to look at the rising sun, painfully aware of how close they were to one another. The sunrise on Pearl Island truly was a spectacular sight to behold and was rendered even more striking by the darkness of the water. I had heard that those waters were some of the deepest in the world and that that attributed to its profound color…but that wasn't the only thing that I was admiring from afar.

In the distance, in a shallower part of the ocean, floated a lone man and his pokémon. They were both looking out towards the sun, though by their positioning in the water, I guessed that they were waiting for a nice wave to come their way.

Sure enough, their prayer was answered. A good-sized wave, maybe two meters high or so, rushed towards the shore. The man and pokémon turned the board and began to paddle, gradually rising as the water began to arc beneath them. Even from where I was, I could see the intensity in both their eyes as they rode the wave, their stance never faltering.

One.

Once they were done, they immediately began to head back towards where Lucie, Mareep and I were all sitting. The early morning sun, which some people said was the purest light of the whole day, played upon the man nicely: the green floral print of his board shorts seemed to come alive, his taut muscles churned beneath his golden skin, and his eyes, I could see them in such detail. It was the photographer, but for once, I was the one admiring _his_ beauty from afar.

By his side, staring up at him with a look of adulation was a Totodile. His white teeth shown brilliantly against his cornflower blue skin, which in turn contrasted beautifully with the scarlet ridge of spikes along his spine. Back on the mainland, it would have surely been classified as shiny, but this was the norm on Pearl Island. Their isolation was the root of their different coloring and of, I would later learn, their knowledge of different attacks in the wild.

"Oh my gawd, he is _so_ hot," Lucie told me without moving her lips. "And he's comin' right towards us. He's lookin' right at you!"

I was used to attention, but the look that this guy had on his face, the determination, told me that he was looking for something else entirely.

By the time he arrived, Lucie had flushed a deep red and was practically fanning herself. I guessed that she wasn't so chill when around boys.

I kept my cool, though my heart betrayed me with its quickening beat. After all the years of being in the fashion business I spent surrounded by hundreds of ridiculously good-looking male models, I had never once gone out on so much as a date with one. Relationships while in the spotlight is not a good look for anyone, and especially not for me. But there was something about this guy that made me want to change all of that.

"Good morning, ladies," he said, making sure to make eye contact with both us. Then, he knelled down to Mareep's eye-level and added, "and gentleman."

"HI!" Lucie exclaimed, and then added "I'm Lucie and this here's—"

"Delphine. I already know who she is," he said while looking me in the eyes.

"Who are—ahem, what's your name?" I asked, wishing that I could have been more nice.

"Kai," he said. Then he added, upon seeing our surprised looks: "It means: the sea. My father is descended from an island people that live not too far away from here. I got my mother's eyes though."

He had nice teeth too.

"Cool!" Lucie cried. I could have dragged her away by the ear at that point. I reasoned that she was still probably in her boy crazy stage.

"So what brings you over here to talk to us? It seemed as though you were catching some nice waves over there," I asked, trying to sound as normal as possible. Unfortunately, to many my normal voice sounded a bit cold.

"I came here to battle Lucie's Mareep, if you don't mind," he said, not taking his eyes off of Lucie as he spoke.

"Lil ole me?" Lucie asked, pressing her hand to her heart, feigning shock. But then, as if another person had jumped into her body and taken over, she jumped to her feet and placing one resolute hand on her hip. "Well, I sure do hope you don't think that I'm gonna take it easy on you just because you're good-lookin'!"

He grinned.

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

* * *

"I hope you realize that I technically have the advantage here, Mr. Kai." Lucie politely reminded him.

"Ma!"

"We both know; right, Totodile?"

"Dile!"

"Well, with that in mind, I'm gonna have to let you have the first move," Lucie yelled from her side of the beach.

"Fine by me. Go Totodile, tackle!"

Totodile leaped into action almost before Kai could finish pronouncing the words, kicking up sand as he switched to all fours.

"Tackle!"

Mareep responded just as quickly. One of the first things that I noticed was how surprisingly speedy he was as he galloped across the sand. The determination in its eyes was something to see. For something so cute and fluffy, it sure did look menacing on the battlefield. Both pokémon collided into each other with an amazing crack and remained there pushing against one another, neither one allowing the other to overpower him, both equally strong.

"Totodile, jump back and use water gun!"

Totodile used the strength of Mareep to help propel him backwards, adding a little flip as he did. It seemed he had a lot of spunk, that one. Then, with a great cry, he blasted Mareep right in the face, causing him to fly backward quite a few feet. A direct hit.

"Your Totodile is strong, I'll give him that, but me and Mareep have been together for too long to fall to some dinky water attack. Mareep, surround Totodile with cotton spore now!"

"Reep!" he yelled in agreement. Clumps of his wool suddenly began to detach themselves from Mareep's body and hover in the air.

"Totodile, dodge the attack by diving into the ocean!"

"Mareep, bar off the ocean from Totodile with your cotton spore!"

Totodile made a mad dash towards the ocean, where he would have undoubtedly been a lot more comfortable. But Mareep was just too fast, as the cotton balls dispersed all around Totodile, effectively sealing him into some type of woolen cage.

Things were getting interesting.

"Got'em! Now zap the cotton with your thunderbolt attack!"

What a great idea! Since the wool was from Mareep himself, then it would surely conduct electricity. That would make it nearly impossible for Totodile to escape. Lucie was definitely an experienced pokémon trainer, I knew it right then and there. That type of strategy was far from amateur.

"Totodile, dive underground!"

The moment Totodile jumped and dove into the sand, both of our jaws dropped. Totodile had just used dig? We could barely process the thought of it. Poor Mareep didn't know what to do; he just stood there, looking at Lucie in desperation.

"Mareep, stay cool. Just charge up your wool with thundershock! We're gonna blast this ground-type move outta the water!"

"Ree!" Mareep cried as blue energy began to crackle over his body, doubling the size of its wool. It was at that moment that Totodile came out of the ground and sent Mareep flying into the air, squealing in pain as he fell onto his back.

"Now, finish him off with scratch attack!"

Totodile's claws began to glow a blinding white while he was still in the air. Then, he maneuvered himself headfirst as he down towards Mareep, almost like a Noctowl in a stoop to catch its unsuspecting prey. Mareep was still upturned, unable to evade Totodile's attack because of the added mass of his excess wool.

"FLAIL THEN THUNDERSHOCK!" Lucie cried.

With a loud grunt, Mareep bucked legs with a quick undulating motion and hoisted himself straight onto Totodile's outstretched claws. Totodile let out a surprised shriek as the tables were suddenly turned. Struggle as he might, he couldn't remove himself from Mareep's wool. So, while in midair and stuck in this very odd embrace, Mareep shifted his weight in order to take the dominant position before they crashed to the ground with a loud thud. Blue electricity then surrounded Mareep's body for a few seconds, before Mareep finally jumped off, surprisingly smaller than he had been just seconds ago.

Totodile didn't move.

* * *

"Wow, those were some amazing moves," Kai said, smilingly taking his defeat with grace. "I wasn't expecting that at all."

"Oh well, me and Mareep have been together for a long time and we always look for a way to win, even when it looks like we're fittin' ta lose!" Lucie chirped, awkwardly scratching her head as she did.

"So have Totodile and I. The dig usually gets us out of trouble with the electric types but I guess that you and Mareep were just a bit too strong," Kai admitted.

I hated how they spoke as if I wasn't there. But most of all, I hated that I hated how they spoke as if I wasn't there. I wasn't used to being unable to connect with people, but unfortunately, I wouldn't even be able to connect with them on that level until I could figure out what to do with Whismur.

I continued to listen to them flatter one another for another minute or so before I told them that I was going to go for a walk in the forest. Lucie asked me if I wanted her to come with me but I gently declined her offer. Besides, I knew that she wanted to spend time with Kai. Humoring her proved the best option for the most of us. I didn't know just how much more of it I could have taken.

Yet, Kai intrigued me, and not only because of his looks. I had heard him say that he and Totodile had been together for a long time.

As soon as the grass along the property began to give way to shrubs and then to full out trees, it suddenly clicked why I had crashed into him the other day in the dining hall. He didn't need to get a pokémon so he had decided to go along on his merry way. And then, had he not also said that usually Totodile's dig attack worked to his advantage against electric-type pokémon? Evidently, he wasn't completely ignorant of the art of battling pokémon. So did that make him a trainer that did photography or a photographer that trained pokémon on the side?

"Either way, I won't be able to ask him as long as Lucie's breathing down his neck," I said to myself as I sidestepped out of the way of a large boulder.

In the forest, I could hear all sorts of sounds: pokémon calling out to one another, insects zipping past my ears, and the constant thunder of a waterfall. Having nothing better to do, I thought that I would follow that last sound and chill there for a while to get my thoughts together. The cameraman had seemed to go on a break or something once I went into the forest, opting to film whatever was developing between Kai and Lucie, _if _anything indeed was developing between them.

The waterfall wasn't very far away at all, I soon discovered, and it was spectacular in spite of its relatively small size. I quickly found a small slab of slate that wasn't wet from the cascading water and sat down upon it. The stone was cool, a nice soothing contrast to the sand that had begun to gather heat from the rising sun. I felt myself being pulled down to the stone, it was just so relaxing. I titled my head towards the sky and admired the view of the green and brown of the trees and the pokémon that occupied them. The forest was alive around all and I wasn't doing anything at all to add to it.

I thought that I would change that; and without a second thought, I pulled out the only pokéball I owned that had something in it. Then, I rolled onto my side and, after taking a deep breath, exclaimed, "Whismur! I choose you!" That wasn't so bad after all.

The beam shot forth and there Whismur was. Before he could open his mouth to cry I reached forward and grabbed him, placing him onto my lap. Once I was sitting cross-legged, I wrapped my left arm around his body and fixed my free hand over his mouth. There was a look of horror that flashed in his eyes and it hurt me to have been so rough with him but this absolutely had to be done.

"Now, Whismur," I said softly. Then I took a deep breath. "I know that you're afraid of me. And though I'm sitting here covering your mouth, I want you to trust me when I say that it's not because I want to hurt you or scare you in any way. (He began to shake at this point.)

I just need for you to hear where I'm coming from.

"I would love to be friends with you. Really, I would. And I would love to be your partner in battles as well, but we really can't do this if you're going to continue to cry whenever you see me. That's step number one. Now, do you think you could do that? (When I realized that he couldn't necessarily reply with my hand clamped over his mouth, I took him and set him before me.)

"Now, see? That isn't so bad. Wait, wait! Don't cry! Please!"

His mouth was a quavering circle at that point and with each passing second, I was afraid that he was about to blow. His little body inflated and deflated at a rapid pace but somehow, someway he maintained his composure. "Whismurrrrrr," he breathed. To me, it looked like he had yawned. The sound of rushing water had drowned out what little voice he had within him.

"Thank you so much, Whismur, really. This is a great step for us," I told him. I looked around as I figured out some other encouraging things to say. It was beyond awkward. This was the most I had to really push myself to be nice since my sisters were still really young. But back then I was helping to raise them so I guess it was a different game entirely.

"So, um, what type of abilities do you have?"

Whismur looked around as though he weren't sure of himself. His posture sunk but before long, his little arms began to glow a bright white much in the same way that Totodile's had. Then, out of nowhere he leaped at me and socked me square in the jaw. As I was already in a weird position on the ground, instead of being blasted backwards by the force of the blow, I was knocked backwards...onto my head. Yes, right onto the smooth gray slate that I had just been laying on only a few minutes before. A shooting pain echoed through my head and I felt my hands reaching to cradle it. I moaned in agony as I rocked back and forward from the reeling pain.

"Whismur? Whismur!" he cried as he clambered on top on of me. I felt a light pressure on my cheek and was quite sure it was him, though I could barely feel, or see, anything at that point.

Everything faded into gray.

* * *

_"Delphine," she would say, her voice as faint as a whisper, and immediately I raised my head to look into eyes that, in spite of their savageness, exuded a silent, though alarming, sadness. It was a look that I had seen every day for many, many years._

_"Yes," I squeaked, my voice cracking beneath the weight of the whirlwind of emotions I was experiencing at the time. Could it be? _

_A look of lingering pain combined with the look of acceptance of a person that has been suffering for a very long time showed on her face. She smiled with squinted eyes, as if the effort were draining the very life out of her._

_"Struggle," she said..._


	4. Chapter Four: Against All Odds

"Model Behavior"

_Author's Note: I did not create the world of Pokémon, the creatures within it, nor the basic concept of it. I did, however, create the characters in this story and would like to be asked permission if you wish to use them. This is the first time I have written in a very long time and look forward to reading your insight on the text. I'm a lot older now, but my interest in Pokémon has not changed. Thank you._

_

* * *

_

Words cannot quite describe how I was feeling at that particular moment.

I knew that I was alive, though I didn't exactly feel that way. There was this vague sensation of floating, high above the canopy of the verdant green forest, yet also a sensation of sinking, plummeting to untold depths. Oddly enough, I could still hear voices all around me, though none quite as clear as _hers_.

"_Endure_," she said.

Perhaps this is what she was referring to. But as it had only been a dream, there was no way to be entirely sure. Perhaps, instead, there was a greater meaning attached to her words, her looks, and her expression. Some dreams are meant to be taken literally and others are not and I asked myself why did it have to be so hard to choose.

Outside the realm of negative space, I could hear the forest burgeoning with life all around me. A cacophony of greetings, grunts, and growls combined to create an enchanting melody. That was what was making me float, I soon understood. As for the other voice, _her _voice, _that_ was the resistance.

I was caught in the middle of a conflict, but I didn't know which side to take. Should I follow that woman or should I continue to float? All that I knew was that this middle state could no longer be an option. Viciously I began to tear at my hair. A low growl rose from the pit of my stomach, filling the air with a savage and terrific noise.

I had to get out of this dream!

It was driving me insane!

"_Pa! _(One!)"

Higher, my legs flailed in all directions as I rose higher and higher.

"Chi! (Two!)"

Higher, strands of white hair fell without touching ground.

"Ri! (Three!)"

Higher, my eyes darted in all directions before finally rolling back in my head.

Darkness.

"PACHA! (GO!)"

No more floating.

My body jolted awake.

* * *

I bolted upright.

My eyes were open.

I could see.

Large, glittering eyes peered back at me, growing with excitement. They were set upon a round, white face. Cherubic. It was meticulously white, no signs of dinginess or laziness in it its upkeep. Pure. At the apple of its cheeks were gray circles. The pokémon cradled its face with its tiny little arms, looking at me with a look of surprise that bordered on stupefaction. It was so close, so undeniably close; moving closer by with each labored breath that I took. Too close.

"AHHHHHHHHH!" I screamed.

"PACHAAAAAAAA!" it cried.

"MURRRRRRRRR!"

The earth seemed to trembled and leaves began to fall from the trees. The white pokémon scattered, clutching its ears in agony. I lay there on the ground, rolling back and forth, praying that Whismur would put an end to all of this commotion.

"PLEASE!" I begged, my voice cracking with emotion. I'd had enough. I just wanted it all to be over once and for all. I placed the right side of my head down onto the rock and mashed my ear shut with my other free hand. It helped to alleviate the infernal noise that surrounded me, though not by much.

The ground began to tremble even more. Yet oddly enough, with my right ear pressed to the rock, the vibrations began to take on a different allure. It seemed as though the vibrations were getting stronger and stronger. How could that be? Whismur's voice had a peak, and I was pretty sure that he had reached it. It had to be something else. I pressed my ear down harder onto the slate and really tried to hone in on it. The vibrations were evenly spaced out, yet building in intensity. It could only mean one thing.

Something was coming for us.

Whismur had stopped screaming.

I flipped myself onto my back just into to see a flash of blinding light. It was the sun being reflected off the skin of a small, but highly agitated and beastly-looking pokémon that, at the moment, was reared up on its powerful hind legs. Saliva dripped from the sharp canines that lined its bright pink tongue. Whismur cowered before it, so frightened that it could barely produce more than a squeak as it gawked at the steel-plated pokémon standing before it. The pokémon, which by then I had recognized to be a Lairon, had a look of contempt in its icy blue eyes as it sized up the cowering Whismur before.

"Whismur! Don't just stand there and shiver. DO SOMETHING!" I cried. This pokémon meant business and after just waking up from Whismur's pound attack, being electrocuted by an impish little Pachirisu, and rendered partially deaf in one ear by Whismur's cries, never before had returning the the mansion sounded so appealing.

"Pound!"

Whismur hesitated for a moment and turned to look at me.

"Do it NOW!" I growled.

I guess that was just the push that he needed, for as soon as I had uttered the words, he leaped into the air with that glowing little arm of his and brought it crashing down upon Lairon's head.

Lairon blinked.

Oh shit. It didn't have any effect on him.

Lairon stood up on its hind legs once more and then fell bought her forelegs down with such incredible might, that the slate shelf upon which we were all resting, developed a long deep fissure. I yelped as my body began to slide toward the middle of the rock, where water from the pool beneath the waterfall had begun to fill in. I quickly turned onto my stomach and desperately clawed for a firm grip to keep myself from going into the water. With a waterfall like that, there was bound to be a strong undercurrent. That water was the last place where I wanted to be.

When I had finally latched onto a decent piece of rock, I heard a loud thump and before I knew it, Lairon's penetrating eyes were bearing right into mine. I felt the blood drain out of my face as my hand lost grip of the rock I had previously been holding onto.

"LAIR!" it cried as it opened its massive jaws and leaned forward. I closed my eyes, half-expecting for it to bite my bloody head off. But it didn't. I felt its jaws clamp around my arm instead. I pushed my head up from the water, wondering why I hadn't just been detached from my arm. To my surprise, and utter delight, I could barely feel Lairon's teeth as it hoisted me back onto level ground. It was almost as if it was painstakingly trying _not _to amputate me.

Once I was out of the water, I barely could breathe a sigh of relief before it had, in one adept movement, forced me on top of it very bony, and uncomfortable, back.

"Mur! Whis mur!" Whismur protested, still stranded on the other island of slate.

Lairon whirled around so fast that I almost was flung back into the water. Then, with one mighty breath, it let out the most blood-curdling roar that I had ever heard. I watched in horror and Whismur leapt off of the island and dove through a patch of bushes. He never turned back.

I then proceeded to be dragged off to somewhere behind the waterfall, all while thinking how Whismur could have been scared off by a roar when he was supposed to be Soundproof.

* * *

Darkness all around me. The cave smelled wet, saturated with minerals and natural gases. I could still faintly hear the crashing of the waterfall as it fell into the pool of water below, yet I did not know exactly how far I was from it at the time.

Lairon and I hadn't been walking for a very long time before we reached this space. Once we had arrived, she gently shoved me from her back and up against a wall of the cave whose perspiration mingled with my own on the back of my shirt. Strangely, it felt somewhat refreshing for the day had grown hot under midday sun.

Once I was settled, the familiar though startling blue eyes disappeared from sight. I had thought that maybe it would be a good time to make my getaway though something told me that that wouldn't be the smartest thing to do. Not so soon, anyways. I had to wait for my opportunity.

So I waited and waited and waited some more, wondering how long I would remain in that cave, and also wondering if anyone would care enough to come search for me.

My mind flashed back to Whismur. The fool. What was he thinking, trying to protect me from a Lairon? Granted, I had asked him to defend me, but in retrospect, it wasn't the most intelligent way of handling things. I should have remembered that normal-type attacks had no effect on rock-type pokémon, much less on steel-types. That much should have been common sense. Oh well, desperate circumstances called for desperate measures.

I supposed that there was something endearing and vaguely touching about his effort. It was the first time that he had done something that I had asked him to do, which was a great feat in and of itself. Maybe it was the foreshadowing of a future glorious relationship between trainer and pokémon in the future.

"Humph," I huffed, coming to terms with what had really just gone down. When Lairon had roared, Whismur ran away screaming bloody murder. Who knew when—much less, if—he would return?

Maybe it was for the best.

A low grumbling in the distance snapped me back to reality.

Lairon was on its way back.

Oh joy!

"Lair ron!" it exclaimed. And then, as if she had summoned it out of thin air, another pair of ice blue eyes appeared in the darkness, causing me to leap back, and thus, bump my head against the bumpy cave wall. After muttering a jumble of curses to myself, I rubbed the sore part of my head. It had taken quite the beating that day.

The new pair of eyes were smaller than Lairon's. A lot smaller. And, much to my surprise, they seemed a bit kinder as well. Still, there was something in the way that they hardly ever blinked that produced a sinking feeling in my stomach. I nervously shifted my weight as the eyes drew closer. When I felt the cold metal brush against my skin, a high-pitched yelp escaped my lips. The eyes then flew back a few feet before, after a few hesitant blinks, they began their approach once more. This time, when the pokémon nudged my hand, I felt something small...and fleshy.

"Aron!"

Was it offering me a small animal to eat?

In the dark I could feel my left eyebrow raising in confusion as I accepted the gift. I had fully intended on just discarding the poor thing, but after a few awkward moments of staring from both Lairon and Aron, I decided to suck it up and eat whatever the thing was if it was the only way to appease them.

After taking a deep breath, I tossed it into my mouth and began to chew. Much to my surprise, the flesh burst quite easily under the pressure of my teeth and oozed the most delightful juice. A fruity juice.

Aron had given me a berry to eat!

"Thank you!" I said, not wanting to seem unappreciative. The berry had hit the spot pretty well as my throat was rather parched from all the excitement of the day.

Without any notice, Aron leap into my lap and savagely began to lick and nuzzle me, an odd combination of cold and hot. Unfortunately, I was almost suffocating under the weight of his tiny body. For something that was little over a foot tall, I estimated, he must have weighed as much as I did at the time. When I looked back up into the darkness of the cave, I could see a large pair of eyes staring back at me.

They seemed to have softened.

It was at the moment that I had realized that Lairon was the mother of this Aron. And as Aron clamored in my lap for my affection, I could gradually feel something breaking down inside of me. It was a strange emotion, one that I hadn't felt since my sisters were still very young.

Then suddenly, Aron's armor didn't feel so cold. I could feel his heart rapidly beating beneath his flesh. His blue eyes peered into mine and instead off wanting to shudder and look the other way, I felt drawn to them. Quite frankly, I couldn't take my eyes away from them.

We remained thus for quite some time, almost forgetting that there was another pokémon in the room. How selfish it was of us to not let Lairon join in on our mirth!

But when we finally turned our attention away from one another, we realized that there was nobody else to give it to.

Lairon was gone and we were all alone.

Together.

A shield of tumbling water was all that separated us from the hollows of the cave and the endless expanse of the Luminescent Forest. I reached forward and let the fresh, cold water pelt my open palm, splashing my face in the process. I looked down at Aron, who also happened to be looking up at me. I smiled as if to say "let's go", and we both sidestepped our way around the waterfall.

Together.

* * *

"There she is!"

It took some time for my eyes to adjust to harshness of pure, unfiltered light but when they did, I could see what appeared to be a veritable searching party of trainers, their pokémon, and, of course, cameramen. Oh! how I loved the cameramen.

Aron cowered behind my legs as people started to close in on us, looks of concern and befuddlement in their eyes. Some of them even held outstretched arms before me, though I brushed them all away. Who did they think I was?

"You're scaring Aron," I scolded them as I tried to make my way away from the waterfall.

"Delphine," someone cried, though this time it was a more familiar voice. I whirled around to see where it was coming from. Immediately, Lucie appeared with Whismur clutched tightly in her arms. "You had me worried sick, girl! Where ya been?" She immediately dumped Whismur into my arms and swooped me up in a tight embrace. I couldn't help but feel a bit uncomfortable: I had never been this close to Whismur, except when he had rocked my jaw. I had never hugged Lucie either.

I couldn't help but notice how delightfully squishy Whismur was though.

Lucie's lips were pressed into a tight line. Lines of worry etched into her forehead as she searched my blank expression for an answer. Before I could mumble a response, she was already at my feet reaching to stroke Aron's head. "Who's this little cutie?"

"Air!" he squealed as he clamped his jaws dangerously close to Lucie's chipped fingernails. She immediately recoiled from the tiny pokémon and nervously scratched the back of her head, all while saying, "He's a feisty lil thang, ain't he?"

As if intending to contradict what she had just said, Aron immediately began to tug at my sock and whine. Whismur gazed at him with a look of surprise.

"Whismur...whis mur mur rrr," he told Aron.

Aron began to growl.

Whismur shivered.

Lucie looked from one pokémon to the other. "It looks like lil Aron there wants ya to pick 'em up. Delphine! I don't think much likes you holding Whismur and not him!"

I rolled my eyes. "But he's heavier than I am!" I then sat Whismur onto the ground next to Aron, he discretely bumped into him as he went to rub against my leg.

Lucie giggled before turning back to the crowd that had gathered around us. It seemed that always happened whenever something _interesting_ had happened to me. "Well, seems to me that Delphine is doin' quite all right for herself and she's got a brand new Aron too. Y'all can just go on y'all merry way now."

What happened next reminded me a lot of the days when I would come attend the grand premiere of an overly hyped-up movie and the paparazzi would swarm all over me. Normally I would selectively answer a couple of questions and then politely smile and dismiss the other ones, but this time I had no such intentions.

"What happened?"

"What's in the cave?"

"How did you catch an Aron?"

"I want one!"

"Why was Whismur alone?"

"Are those real?"

Me, Lucie, and my two pokémon had already begun to make our way back to the mansion, but I couldn't resist a sudden urge to put all of the questions to an end. With one compact twirl, I turned to face my interrogators. They all seemed to pitch forward a bit, ready to hang onto every word. I could almost see notepads in some of their hands. I stated the words softly, though deliberately so that everyone could hear:

"I'll never tell."

And with that, I turned to rejoin Lucie and the others.

I had had enough adventure for one day.

* * *

The next day, overcome by a sudden urge to actually do what I had come to that house for, I found myself running on a treadmill with Aron and Whismur on smaller treadmills by my side. Although I was naturally thin, I was no stranger to some good, old-fashioned physical fitness. Part of the reason why I had been so successful at booking jobs was very much because of my body, which was still soft and feminine, yet toned. I was no waif.

Aron seemed to gallop tirelessly on the gray track of the machine. As he was still very young, he still had countless amounts of energy to spare. Whismur, on the other hand, was not faring so well and I had had to turn down the speed on more than one occasion. The machine was running him instead of the other way around.

"Whismur, I know that your body isn't really suited for speed, but that doesn't mean that you can't make it that way," I told him as I struggled to catch my breath during my full-out sprint.

"Mur," he groaned as his posture sunk and he began to drift towards the end of the treadmill, before finally falling backwards onto the cold, gym floor with swirls in his eyes.

"Aron air!" Aron exclaimed in what was vaguely reminiscent of a giggle. He turned to face Whismur and then blew him a raspberry.

"Whismur," he puffed, too exhausted to muster enough courage to come up with a decent comeback. I had slightly noticed a sort of rivalry between them but failed to give it much attention. A little competition never hurt anyone. Maybe it would push them both over the edge.

Once the rolling carpet of the treadmill began to slow for the cool-down period, I grabbed my water bottle and guzzled it until I had quenched my thirst. Then, stepping down from the treadmill, I produced two bowls from my gym bag and poured some water into them. They eagerly gulped down the water. Aron rubbed up against my leg and I reached down to pat him on the head. Whismur remained off to the side.

"Let's go practice a few attacks!"

With that, we headed off to one of the numerous training rooms in the gym facility. The room itself wasn't excessively large, yet spacious enough to allow for a variety of different pokémon to comfortably practice their moves in. After dabbing the perspiration from my forehead with a towel, I squared Aron and Whismur off from one another. Aron looked ready to pounce as he scraped the ground with his tiny hind leg. Whismur, just stood there, his little arms waving in the air, as if to tell me that he didn't want to battle.

"Whismur, this is the only way that I can see what you're capable of. After that whole fiasco with Aron's mom yesterday, I'm convinced that we have our work cut out for us."

Whismur winced at my words.

Aron turned back to me with a wink.

"Now," I said, standing up tall and pointing at Aron. "Use tackle attack! And you, Whismur, show me what you would do that could stop Aron in his tracks!"

Immediately, Aron took off galloping towards Whismur, his body a tiny, silver blur. He was strikingly fast, something that I had not doubted after seeing him on the treadmill; he closed the distance between he and Whismur in little to no time.

I tensed up. "Whismur, don't just stand there!"

But apparently, Whismur had other plans. He shot up into the air just before Aron could barrel into him. While still in the air, he held his arms out, evenly-spaced apart. A small purple and black orb began to form in the center of the space. I stood there in awe as Whismur launched the orb—a Shadow Ball—at Aron, who had turned just in time to get hit square in the face by the attack. His skidded back several feet, his little body tumbling over and over again.

I stood there almost horrified, wondering when he would ever stop rolling. But after a few seconds or so, I realized that he wasn't just reeling from the blow. He seemed to right himself as he cut a wide arc around the battlefield. Right away, it sunk in that he was using a Rollout attack.

With breakneck speed, he crashed into Whismur and sent him flying into the air. Whismur landed on the ground with a loud thud and I took a step forward, thinking that it was over. But when I saw Whismur struggle to his feet, I knew that he wasn't down for the count. Not just yet, anyways.

Aron continued to roll across the the floor, intending to battle until Whismur was knocked out for good. Whismur stood there, waiting for him to get closer.

"What could he possibly be doing?" I wondered out loud.

Within seconds, Aron was three feet away from colliding into Whismur. Then, in one swift movement, Whismur threw up his arms and let out one loud, acute scream. A wave of energy shot through the air, causing Aron to roll out of his attack. He stood there, eyes widened. Petrified.

"Whismur just used an Astonish attack," I grinned. This was unbelievable.

Without waiting for Aron to snap out of his stupor, Whismur leaped forward with a glowing arm. He connected dead-on with Aron's face, sending him flying backwards. Aron landed on his back, legs in the air. Dazed.

I coughed.

"Whismur?"

I didn't know what to say. I was absolutely at a loss for words as I headed over to where the two pokémon were standing. Whismur's body heaved with each ragged breath as he glared at the fainted baby pokémon, who had begun to cry with heavy sobs from the pain. Without thinking, I rushed over to Aron's side and cradled his head in my lap.

"Aww, Aron. It's ok. Don't cry! You did so great!" I cooed while rocking back and forth.

"Mur," Whismur murmured, his ear drooping ever so slightly.

* * *

Aron proved to be quite inconsolable at the moment. All that I could do was comfort him as he expressed the disappointment of losing his first battle. But Aron was a resilient little thing and before long, his tears subsided and we began to pack up our things. We'd had enough training for the day. What we all need was some rest and relaxation.

As I went to open the door to exit from the training room, I realized the doorknob was no longer there and collided into whatever was obstructing the entrance.

"You're not going anywhere until I defeat you and your loser pokémon!" A shrill voice demanded.

I didn't have to look up to know that it was Minerva.


	5. Chapter Five: When It Hurts So Bad

"Model Behavior"

_Author's Note: I did not create the world of Pokémon, the creatures within it, nor the basic concept of it. I did, however, create the characters in this story and would like to be asked permission if you wish to use them. This is the first time I have written in a very long time and look forward to reading your insight on the text. I'm a lot older now, but my interest in Pokémon has not changed. Thank you._

_

* * *

_

When I finally raised my head, Minerva was standing there in the doorway with an impetuous hand placed on her narrow hip. On her lips she sported a snarl that curled the ends of her thin, pink lips. She brushed a few strands of errant hair from her eyes so that she could have a clearer view from which to glower at me.

I supposed that she looked menacing enough, or at least, as menacing as she could manage to look with pink hair. I had to give it to her; she was playing her part to a tee. I peered off to the side and noticed that there was an entourage of cameramen and celebrities that all seemed to flit around her like they were her drones and she was the Queen Beedrill. There could only be one bitch in the house and I would rather it be her than me, though I am sure that they had been editing the film to make it seem otherwise.

That's show business for you.

"I would love to battle you, but—"

"You're afraid that you're going to lose?"

So typical.

"I really need to heal my pokémon first."

"You're just trying to bide time."

Instead of feeding into her game, I recalled both Aron and Whismur into their pokéballs and marched past Minerva. I didn't need to explain myself to her. As I breezed past her, I felt something collide into my shoulder.

She wanted to play dirty.

"Meet me back here in five minutes," I grumbled as I walked across the gym to the healing booth.

It surprised me that even though the mansion boasted such things as top-of-the-line workout equipment, training rooms, marble tables, and a stadium, it still didn't have its very own Nurse Joy. Instead there was a tall red machine with a large plasma screen placed above a row of six hollow spaces. On the screen was a cheesing Nurse Joy with "Touch Screen To Begin" scrolling across her round cheeks. I pressed the screen as directed.

"Will you be healing your pokémon or doing a pokémon transfer?"

Sounded genuine enough.

I touched the appropriate box.

"Please place your pokéballs into the allotted spaces," it chirped. Once I had done so, a cute little jingle—_da da da-da da_—played for a few seconds or so before coming to an abrupt end.

"You may now remove your pokéballs. Thank you for using the Pearl Island Pokémon Center Xpress. Take care now and remember...GOTTA CATCH 'EM ALL!"

For a moment, I stood there and stared blankly at the screen.

No, they didn't.

* * *

As I stood on my end of the battlefield, a shiver that ran the length of my spine betrayed the wintry grin that tugged at my lips. This _was_ my first battle after all.

I had imagined it happening somewhat differently, though. First of all, I had not expected to have a rival so early in the game. Secondly, I had thought that I would have had one of the normal three starting pokémon of my region, and definitely not a Whismur. And lastly, I hadn't remotely considered that it would ever be televised for all the world to see. Talk about the added pressure to win! Mentally, I shook myself so that my composure wouldn't break.

Losing to Minerva was just out of the question.

"How many pokémon will we be using?" I asked, thinking that I would flatter her by destroying her under her conditions.

"Just one," she replied in an unusually high voice.

Good, I could use Aron, I reasoned to myself. He seemed to have more of a thirst for battle. Plus, his steel-rock combination wasn't necessarily vulnerable to a lot of other pokémon types.

"But," she began, pausing to blow her freshly-manicured nails. "I thought it would be more..._interesting_, let's say, if we used our starter pokémon. Don't you agree?"

My heart almost skipped a beat. Indeed, Whismur had put up a great battle against Aron and had even beaten him, but Aron was just a baby after all. It wasn't a fair match up. Aron was physically and mentally stronger than Whismur. The latter just didn't know how to harness his power yet. But at the same time, I couldn't just let her know how reluctant I was to send him out on the battlefield. All I had to do was beat her, regardless of whom I chose.

It was simple.

"Fine by me!" I called out with much more bravado than I had intended before feeling on my neck for the sparkling diamond and pearl necklace from which my pokéballs hung. As I fingered the round ball in the palm of my hand, it doubled in size.

"Ready when you are," she said.

"WHAT WILL NOW TAKE PLACE IS A ONE-ON-ONE POKÉMON BATTLE BETWEEN DELPHINE AND MINERVA!" a loudspeaker bellowed, seemingly catching us all by surprise and causing us to jump. A small metal orb whizzed through the air and with a loud poof, changed into a large screen that displayed both our names, faces, hometowns, and occupations. All that it was waiting for were the pokémon.

Immediately, I tossed the ball into the air. There was an audible snap as the ball split in two and dispelled the red light onto the floor of the battlefield. Whismur materialized, his ears erect and his hands pressed to his cheeks. He turned to face me with what appeared to be a questioning glance.

"This is our first battle, Whismur, and we have to win it. Now don't let me down," I told him, my voice rising in intensity with each word.

He visibly began to tremble and I already felt the need to be concerned. His heart wasn't in it.

The battle wasn't going to be easy.

"Come on out, darling!" Minerva exclaimed as she held her own pokéball at arm's length from her body and called forth her pokémon. I had never learned which pokémon she had been given, so I squinted in curiosity to see what it was. Everyone that was in the dining hall the other night knew all too well which pokémon _I_ had received.

When the bright white lights had cleared, I almost burst out in laughter at the pokémon that stood before Whismur. Its skin was the same color fuchsia as Minerva's, though the hue of its chubby little body was as far as the resemblance went. On top of her head was a platinum blond hair that was crowned with a large polka-dot barrette. Its full, round lips smacked together in excitement, greedily awaiting for the battle to begin.

I couldn't help myself.

"How cute! You two match! Well...kind of. I think that barrette was from last season though."

"You don't know anything about fashion! I _breathe_ fashion. You'll be taking that back after we wipe the floor with you. Right, Smoochum?" she retorted.

"Smoo, smoochum!" the little pokémon agreed, turning to wink at her trainer.

"You go first, Delphine. Let's see what you've got!" taunted Minerva from her corner.

This was it. It was a chance for me to do all that I had dreamed of doing for the past few days, but was so afraid to do because of Whismur and what I perceived to be his flaws. I would make this battle beautiful, and interesting, and effective. I would show that I was better than Minerva.

"Whismur, jump into the air and use Pound!"

"Smoochum, you use Pound as well!"

Though his reaction time was a bit slow for my tastes, he eventually leaped about ten feet into the air, glowing arm and all. Smoochum waited for his descent before her arm began to glow as well, a look of confidence and determination in her eyes. As Whismur was about to pummel her, she sprang into the air. Their two arms met midway and, as Whismur had had a little more momentum, the force of the blow blasted Smoochum back a few feet, causing her to squeal in pain. Whismur landed soundly on his feet and awaited further orders.

"Not bad, Whismur. Keep it up! Use Shadow Ball now!"

Whismur quickly began to charge his energy until the tell-tale black and purple sphere hovered between his hands.

"Are you all right, Smoochum? Show them your Powder Snow attack!"

Whismur released the Shadow Ball at a shockingly high speed. As it tore through the court, chips of the court flew out in all directions. In the meantime, Smoochum was already on her feet and had taken a huge gulp of air, causing her body to inflate, before blowing out a stream of snowflakes at the Shadow Ball. I winced as the ball that once crackled with live energy landed into the palm of Smoochum's hand. Frozen solid.

"Aha! Now, toss the ball up and hit it back with Ice Punch!"

Smoochum obeyed without hesitation and before I knew it, the frozen Shadow Ball had tripled in size, thanks to the Ice Punch, and was flying back at Whismur at a tremendous speed.

"Move out of way!" I screamed.

But his reaction time was too slow and the attack hit dead-on.

"Whismurrrrr," he cried as his body skidded across the ground.

I raked my mind trying to figure out what I should do next. As far as I knew, Whismur didn't possess any attacks that were particularly strong against ice-type pokémon. I pondered about this for a few moments before, not wanting to waste any more time, I figured that I would have do what he did best: cry.

"Whismur, use Uproar!"

"Quick Smoochum, use Sweet Kiss!"

Whismur struggled to his feet and threw his arms up in the air as he took a deep breath through his ears. Smoochum, however, was already on the move and was sailing towards Whismur. She was a lot quicker than I had imagined. Massive white sound waves shot across the field at Smoochum, whose body had crumpled a bit as she continued to run towards Whismur.

Much to my surprise, Whismur's screams weren't debilitating me and Minerva as we watched on; they were only affecting Smoochum. Maybe this was because they were being directed at her and not at us.

This would explain partly explain why we were all perishing under his cries during the opening ceremony and why it had hurt Pachirisu and I that time by the waterfall, yet had barely phased me when he was battling Aron. When he was startled, he must not have been able to control the intensity of his scream. I frowned, what a fine time to come to that realization. And during the middle of battle too!

Smoochum was visibly struggling to reach Whismur. I smiled. She wouldn't be able to keep this up for much longer. We were going to win! I could just feel it in my heart.

"Keep it up!" Minerva and I both yelled at the same time.

You had to admire the guts that Smoochum displayed as she continued through the onslaught of Whismur's Uproar attack. She was slowly but surely gaining ground. In fact, she was very, very close to him.

"Whismur, don't let her touch you. Pump up your Uproar attack. Now!"

But apparently, Whismur had let up a little bit as he strained to listen to my command and Smoochum capitalized upon that lull to leap into the air and throw her arms around Whimsur's body. I nearly crumbled to the ground as she planted a big, wet kiss on his cheek and a large pink heart rebounded from his cheek and into the air.

Shit.

"Whismur, don't fall under her trap! Pound!"

But it was too late. Whismur's arm glowed as if he were about to attack, but I wouldn't exactly say that what he did could ever be considered as a proper Pound attack. Instead, he used his hand to gently stroke Smoochum's cheek. As he caressed her cheek, his head cocked to the side and he murmured sweet nothings into Smoochum's ear.

"Ice Punch!"

All that I could do was watch in horror as Whismur's body was thrown into the air and he came crashing down to the hard, unforgiving ground.

We had lost.

* * *

"Hmm, guess that you lost. That means that _I _won," Minerva said with a carefree shrug of her shoulders.

"It's nice to see that you understand basic logic," I said as I tried to brush past her. Unfortunately, she was far too empowered by her victory at the moment to let me remove myself from the training room so quickly. She had other plans.

"So?" she asked, dubiously raising her eyebrows and crossing her slender arms one over the other. What an actress, I thought, hamming it up for the camera. I wonder if the show was being taped live. I had no problem imagining potbellied fathers, melodramatic "tweens", and boys of all ages standing at attention.

The nerve of her! Did she actually expect me to get down on my knees and surrender to her superiority as a trainer? Really, did she think that _I _would sink down that low? Never! She must have gone crazy right then; I had decided it.

"What do you expect me to say? That I lost?" I barked. I could feel my eyebrows knitting together at that exact moment, in the same way that they did when I squinted. It was something that had been somewhat of a problem in my early modeling days. Whenever I got nervous, which I undoubtedly was at that time, my eyebrows would be the tell-all sign.

Visibly, her body language relaxed and she languidly placed a hand upon her hip and smiled. "There it goes. You lost. _You lost_. And you know what the best part about it is? (She didn't give me time to answer, as if I ever would have answered anyways.) You, _Delphine Delacroix_, the "Catwalk Queen", you lost to me, _Minerva—_the so-called "has-been" of trainer fashion. What do you have to say for yourself?"

With each word that she uttered, the overwhelming urge to clasp my hands around her long, slender neck grew stronger and stronger. My right hand had violently begun to shake, taking upon itself a mind of its own. It begged to be released. I was afraid that if I had said anything, I would have screamed at the top of my lungs and the last thing I wanted to do after my defeat was to attract even more attention to myself.

The best that I could do was walk away.

So I did.

* * *

As I made my exit, I could hear a great deal going on behind me. But one voice stood out among all the others. "I bet she's going to go cry in her room. It seems that these youngsters just aren't cut out for show business. Oh, I almost feel sorry for the thing. _Almost_."

A chill proceeded to go down my spine.

Well, if there was one thing that Minerva had been wrong about, it was about where I would go to sulk after my defeat. As it was still early in the afternoon, I headed down to the beach. As it had proved time and time again, by the water was where I was most at peace with myself and the world around me, and after such a tense morning, that's exactly where I needed to be.

My feet spilled out of my long, but not nearly long enough, beach towel and onto the sand. And though it was a warm eighty-two degrees, the toasty sand did not cause me the slightest discomfort. I could hear Wingull off in the distance, laughing, playing, diving... My spirits were being lifted, but there was still something that I just could not shake.

I had been made of fool by Minerva.

And though I had willingly signed up to be a contestant on this show, it was only then that I realized that bringing shame upon myself was ultimately one of the many consequences that I would face. I began to think that maybe I should have researched my options a bit more thoroughly.

How could a person be so bitter towards someone with whom she never even had a formal introduction to? It felt like school all over again. Envy, one of seven deadly sins, did not discriminate on whom it chose to unleash itself upon and, apparently, neither did Greed. But what real gain did Minerva expect to take away from making herself my mortal enemy? What? A long stint of disability checks? Who knew? I was _not_ the one to let go of such encounters so easily and yet, there it was that I was the one who had left the room first. I was the person that had backed down.

And then there was Whismur. I just couldn't wrap my mind around how he had been able to bring a room full of people to their knees and yet couldn't take down a pudgy, little Smoochum. Perhaps it was a question of training or communication but at that moment, I wasn't willing to consider that as a viable possibility.

I rolled over onto my back and placed my hands upon the shallow dip of my stomach and squinted under the Sun's dazzling rays.

So much had been going on with me and in such a small space of time. I had received my first pokémon, Whimsur, and had befriended my second, Aron. Oh! and let's not forget that I was resuscitated by an oddly colored Pachirisu—the same one that cowered behind her legs. And then there was the aforementioned _she_. Why had she come to me all of a sudden? And why now? Years after her death, the memories of her face and of her voice stayed in the back of my mind and guided my every move and now, just when I was just starting to accept it, she now occupied my dreams as well. What could this all mean?

I didn't realize that tears had begun to roll down my face until an unknown, yet empathetic voice chimed in and said, "Sometimes when I realize the sheer beauty of this island, I realize just how lucky I am to have this opportunity to raise pokemon and to start things all over again...but this time, on my own terms."

I whirled around to face whomever it was that was speaking to me, startled. I hadn't realized that I wasn't alone. "Who are you and what the hell are you talking about?" I asked, my voice raspy with tears as I wiped my nose with my forearms.

His chuckle was low and rumbling, slightly sketchy, yet at the same time, very comforting. His laughter loosened something inside of me. Whether he knew the cause of my tears or had heard of my defeat to Minerva, I had no idea, but his mirth seemed to come from a genuine place. A pure place. Where was he coming from with all of this? Who was this kid that had decided to pour his heart out to me so candidly under the afternoon sky? And how had his presence escaped my notice? Was I so caught up in my tears that I had not heard him take his place beside me...or had he been there all along? Eyebrows knit together, I examined this boy whose gaze never left the beautiful turquoise sky above. Although his irises were so dark that they appeared almost black in color, they could not have exuded more warmth. What was his story?

"Hello?"

"Hello!" he exclaimed, as if he himself had just realized that I was there.

I don't what it was that started the madness that was this first, strange encounter, but once we realized how crazy the whole situation was, the laughter didn't cease for a very long time. We laughed about everything that was going on in our lives and we laughed at nothing at all. But most importantly, we laughed for the sake of laughing. And the coolest thing about it was that it made me forget, forget it all, if only for a little while.


	6. Chapter Six: Try Again

"Model Behavior"

_Author's Note: I did not create the world of Pokémon, the creatures within it, nor the basic concept of it. I did, however, create the characters in this story and would like to be asked permission if you wish to use them. This is the first time I have written in a very long time and look forward to reading your insight on the text. I'm a lot older now, but my interest in Pokémon has not changed. Thank you._

_

* * *

_

Sometimes it is difficult to remember that there are other people in circumstances that mirror your own who have their own unique struggles and backgrounds. It is so easy to just write everyone off as this or as that without ever really taking the time to see what makes them tick. With that said, I find it surprising that being away from home for so long and joining the ranks of the fashion elite had made me grow so callous towards genuine human—and nonhuman—emotion. I am certain that, from afar, nobody would have ever guessed that I was the eldest of four daughters and that I paid for almost everything down to my sisters' tampons; and nor would they have ever supposed that my motivation for being on the show was not driven by fame, nor by glory. Instead, I wanted...well, I wasn't exactly sure what I wanted and quite frankly, I still cannot say to this day. All that I know is that closure just wasn't quite what I was looking for at the time.

I admire the people who know what they want out of their current stations in life down to the exact shade they want their future dream room to be painted. Maybe that is why, after our random encounter on the beach, I found myself hanging around Bastian so often during my stay on Pearl Island. From the tip of his skull-ringed finger to the snug fit of his spotless white V-neck shirt down to the worn brown leather of his favorite pair of shoes, comfort emanated from his very being. He spoke with unspoken authority although he was probably the most spaced out person I had ever encountered up to that point. Polished, yet down to earth—yes, that is how I would describe him. Meticulous, but remarkably chill.

It was the start of a great friendship, if nothing else, I thought to myself as I sat across from Bastian on a large boulder in the Luminescent Forest. I sat, subconsciously fingering the grooves and cracks of the cool gray stone as Aron, Whismur, Bastian, and his Shinx peacefully ate their breakfast. Not feeling particularly hungry, I barely nibbled on a leftover English muffin and jam as the others chowed down. Decidedly, I liked this spot; and as much as I wanted to focus on the present and the future, my mind kept drifting back to previous, unfortunate events.

"That loss is still on your mind, huh?" Bastian asked matter-of-factly.

I didn't have to answer him in order for him to know the truth. Instead, I just grinned a slight, rueful grin. In spite of myself and all of the soul searching I had done with Bastian and Lucie, the sting of defeat was far from gone. I can't deny that it bothered me how intuitive this boy was, especially when it came to me and my little tribulations, but the manner in which he pursued it was not at all invasive, which distinguished him from the rest of the pack. I guess that I would call it his saving grace.

"You've just got to let it go and keep moving forward," he breathed. Then, as if struck by a novel idea that he just couldn't contain. "Haha, you have to walk it out."

"You _would_ say that to the supermodel, wouldn't you?" I smirked, then looked at Whismur and Aron. I needed to put in some serious work. Strategy was first on the agenda: what kind of battler did I want to be? Did I want to be the defensive tactician, the kind that had the speed to dodge most attacks and then waited for the opening? No, it made sense that my battling style should reflect my own personality in order to be at its most effective. If one thing was sure, it was that I was the type that actively pursued my goals and not the type to sit around and wait. Nevertheless, if I just went all out offensively, then that would be no good either. There needed to be a middle ground in all of this, but how? My goal from that point forth was thus to find an equilibrium in the midst of all that madness.

"I need to battle more."

"Whis-whismurrrr," Whismur stammered as he choked on his morsel of Pokémon Chow Deluxe.

I shook my head in disapproval.

"_That's_," Bastian barked, "what you need to change." His sudden change in moods puzzled me.

"What are you talking about?"

Bastian reached forward and affectionately scratched behind Whismur's floppy ears. With a dismissive shrug, his temper suddenly cooled, he replied, "You'll figure it out sooner or later." The way that the sunlight fell on his visage through the leafy canopy of Luminescent Forest gave it a mottled appeal, obscuring his intentions.

After a few minutes of awkward silence, the first of which we had ever participated in, I rose and began to gather my things. "Let's go, Aron and Whismur, we have some work to do."

The two little pokémon waved their goodbyes to their friends and collected at my feet, waiting for my next move.

"Later," Bastian said, never lifting his head to acknowledge our departure.

* * *

I would like to think that we had made some improvements after our intense training session. Having spent two hours doing a mixture of cardio (running on the treadmills), resistance training (dumbbells for me and pulling bags of sand for the others), agility (weaving in between wooden poles that were set up outside for trainer use), and a decent attempt at target practice with cans, we were pooped. Sprawled out on a large tumbling mat, we lay, stretching our sore aching muscles. I assisted them both in this effort once I had finished stretching on my own. Aron seemed to revel in this individual attention as I stretched and massaged the limbs of his soft underbelly. Whismur closed his eyes in ecstasy as I rubbed his plush fuchsia body.

It was the closest we had even been.

"We worked really hard today. Doesn't that make you feel good?"

They shook their heads vigorously, anything to revel in my deft movements as I teased out all of their tensions.

The gym was full of trainers, all competing to see who could win the privilege to say whom was victorious over whom and then, from there, equating that with actual training ability. I wasn't overly concerned with their petty arguments, inflated chests, and puffed-up egos, but I did, however, want to get in on the action. Training on our own could only do so much for us. As with modeling, practicing poses in the mirror is great for coming up with different looks, but if you cannot deliver in front of the camera lens, then all of that mirror time will have gone to waste. After all, practice makes perfect.

Thus resolved, I headed over to one of the training rooms and entered my name in the computer database located next to the entrance. Before long I heard a computerized voice call out "Will Miss Delacroix and Mr. Meiha please report to the training room? You are now ready to battle!" It was odd to hear my name called in that manner, like it could have been at the Indigo League or something. So official. This place was too efficient for its own good.

Much to my surprise, my opponent had not yet arrived once I made my way to my end of the ring. Where could he be, I wondered as I tied my shoelaces and tightened the bun of hair atop my head. After a few more moments of idle waiting, a guy in board shorts rushed into the room, the _slap_ of his wet flip-flops echoing throughout the room. Immediately, my cheeks began to burn once I realized that Mr. Meiha was none other than Kai himself. The elusive photographer. Suddenly I wished that maybe I hadn't decided to do a practice battle without changing out of my workout gear. I didn't like how exposed I felt when around him.

"Sorry that I'm late. Had to take a whiz before the match," he yelled from across the ring.

"Erm, um, ok!"

Talk about awkward.

"So, how about a three-on-three battle?" he asked, quickly changing the subject.

"Um, I only have two pokémon so..."

"Then, we'll do a team battle. You go first!"

Shit. I hadn't really worked on combinations with them yet. For me, this had come from left field. Clenching my jaw, I reached to my neck and pulled down my only two pokéballs. We just had to make the most of the situation. With a deep breath, I called forth my pokémon. Upon their release, they looked back to me, their eyes wide with wonder. I shrugged and told them that they would have to work together if we were to win. Teamwork.

"An interesting combination, nonetheless. I'm going to go with Totodile and Chikorita!"

Chikorita? But how? I wondered as the twin pools of crimson light materialized into a dark, yet vibrantly marked Totodile and a fawn Chikorita with a lime green leaf. They sported matching menacing expressions on their cute little faces.

"For this team battle, Delphine Delacroix has chosen Aron and Whismur and Kai Meiha has selected Chikorita and Totodile! Let the match begin! Delphine will make the first move."

I didn't know where to begin, but after a brief moment's reflection, I soon decided that starting off strong would be our best bet. Both of the opposing pokémon were sure to possess strong long-distance attacks. Therefore, the closer we got, the more penetrating our attacks would be.

"Aron, tackle Totodile! Whismur, use pound on Chikorita!"

Like a bolt of lightning, Aron set off at a gallop towards Totodile, picking up speed with each powerful kick of his legs. A second later, Whismur soared through the air towards Chikorita with a glowing fist.

"Chikorita, use vine whip to stop Aron from tackling Totodile and you, Totodile, use water gun on Whismur!"

Shit! That's exactly what I was trying to avoid.

Almost as soon as his mouth had uttered the words, twin vines shot across the stage and wrapped themselves around Aron's tiny body. With a very audible grunt, Chikorita hoisted Aron's body into the air and, with a loud snap, sent him flying into the air. My eyes had trouble focusing on this because, at the same time, Totodile had unleashed a powerful stream of water upon Whismur, who was forced down to the ground by the pressure of Totodile's attack. Things were looking bad but I had to think on my feet.

"Aron, use rollout on both Chikorita and Totodile!"

Just as he had done days before during our practice battle, Aron used the momentum from Chikorita's toss to get his body rolling. Chips flew into the air as his rocky body carved through the field and he barreled towards his shocked opponents. It was a critical hit when he collided into them, the force of which put an end to Totodile's relentless water gun assault upon Whismur.

Whismur struggled to his feat, weakened, but still capable of continuing the fight.

We were at a momentary standstill. I knew that if Aron continued his rollout attack, then it would only intensify with each turn, so I lifted a finger to tell him to keep it up. Accordingly, he brought himself full circle before starting up the attack again.

"Chikorita, use razor leaf on Whismur, then dodge Aron. Totodile, use dig to escape the rollout attack."

"Whismur, use astonish to stop the attack!"

Totodile dove into the ground with no hesitation, narrowly missing Aron as he came tearing across the floor. Missing his mark, Aron veered off to the right so that he could right himself before locking onto Chikorita. Chikorita's attention was elsewhere, however. With one sharp twirl, five round leaves in shape of fat crescent moons went slicing through the air. As the leaves cut through the air, I realized just how nervous I was, just how much this battle meant to me. My hands were clammy with moisture.

It was our time to win. How else would I know that I had made the right decision in coming to Pearl Island if I couldn't even win a pokémon battle?

"Whismur, do it! Now!"

"WHIS!" he cried as he emitted a large white sound wave that washed over the stadium. The leaves halted, as if frozen, before falling to the ground in a heap. Much to my surprise, the leaves weren't the only things that were stuck in place, for Chikorita stood there with its whole body stiff with fear. I clenched my fist with the taste of victory already sweet on my tongue as Akon went careening into Chikorita, causing her body to skid across the ground. Her motionless body told us all that she could battle no more.

"Don't think this is over! Chikorita, return! Totodile, come on up!"

The ground began to shake as Totodile made his ascent upward from who knows where. I had no idea where he would surface, so I didn't know who to warn. Not knowing made me uncomfortable. I didn't know what to do, but I knew that I had to act. I knew that as long as Aron kept on rolling then I know that he was pretty much impenetrable. But what about Whismur? He didn't have any attacks that would be very effective as long as Totodile was still underground.

"Aron, keep on rolling, and Whismur, start your uproar attack!"

I very quickly discovered that making faster decisions was something that I would have to work on, for as soon as Whismur began to wail, Totodile leaped from the ground and knocked Whismur out with one move. Before I had time to lament my loss, Aron came tearing through the air and sent Totodile flying.

Things were looking up for us after all, I thought as I recalled Whismur back into his pokéball.

"Use water gun on the field!"

What?

Within seconds, the whole field was slick with water. It was then that I could see that we had fallen into a trap. Sure enough, Aron began to spin out of control.

I had an idea, though.

"Use mud slap!"

"Airr!" Aron cried as he dug one of his feet into the ground as he was sliding. A mass of gooey residue from sodden field collected within his paw and then, in a split second, he flung it at Totodile.

But Totodile and Kai had other plans. "Use scratch attack like we practiced". I felt my eyebrow raise and my mouth widen in horror as I defenselessly watched as Totodile leaped into the air, went into a retrograde spin with his claws aimed well in front of him, cut through the airborne sludge of Aron's failed mud slap attack, and pierced the soft underbelly beneath Aron's formidable steel armor. In other words, Aron was out for the count.

I had lost again.

* * *

I just couldn't put my finger on it. Everything was going so well. We had come up with some amazing attacks, used the environment to our advantage—in other words, we had put our best foot forward in that match. True enough, there were some moments when I didn't know exactly how to react, but in my opinion, we had done a decent job in recovering from those situations. It wasn't exactly in my nature to admit the superiority of my opponent—so be it: I was a sore loser at heart and very much afraid to admit it, mostly to myself—so I concluded that it was something that was wrong with our training. Modeling, like everything else, is something that has to be honed, even if at first it seems to come naturally. Pokémon training is no different it seems.

I kept things brief after the match. As Kai was somewhat of a man of few words, which was something that I can say that I _admired_ at the time, this proved not to be so difficult a task. Propping myself against the cool stone wall of the training area, I began to contemplate the two precious orbs in my hand, but not without stealing a few glances of Kai's retreating figure as he left the gym. This situation was getting the best of me in too many ways and I didn't like it one bit.

Deciding that I needed some fresh air, I slunk away from the auditorium in a way that wouldn't illicit too much attention but sure enough, without fail, the cameramen remained ever vigilant in their responsibility to film my every move. As I walked, I passed a flock of people talking about their various exploits of the day. It was like a melodic sort of cacophony in its own weird little way, the manner in which they were talking about everything, yet about nothing at all.

"Did you hear?"

"Check out my new Pokégear application!"

"How's training going?"

"She's out for good."

"Donphan is getting so powerful!"

"Someone else is coming."

"I need more pokémon!"

To try and pay attention would have been a complete waste of time. Therefore, the path that led me away from them and into some relative solitude was just the place for me. Eventually I found it on a fallen log that was being overtaken by a bright, silvery moss that hung from it in thick, moist shingles. The wood had decomposed so much that I no longer felt that I was, for all intents and purposes, sitting on a piece of rotting wood, but rather, that I was relaxing on a plush chaise lounge with nothing to disturb me but my own musings.

It was nice. Luminescent Forest seemed enchanted. The exotic calls of pokémon that had been separated from the mainland and had developed their own unique characteristics, colorings, and behaviors filled the air; and unlike the maddening effect that gossiping trainers' speech had had upon me, these noises were soothing. I felt one with nature once again. I felt myself beginning to let go as gravity gently beckoned for my head to take refuge upon the velvety trunk. My spirit felt like it was rising above my body, beyond the treetops, and into the sky above...

* * *

_"Believe," she murmured. Tears like crystals welled in her eyes as she extended a palm the color of golden sand towards my face. Her touch felt vaguely warm against my skin, as if the very life was being drained from her being. _

_"Cha!" squeaked the powdery white creature as his fur tickled my bare legs and feet as my mother and I embraced._

_"But—but—I don't know what to believe in," I stammered._

_"Shh," she said, her voice firm, yet dripping with honey. She placed a long, slender finger to my lips and peered deeply into my eyes. I felt as though I were looking at my own reflection at that moment. We were the same, yet so radically different. She and I. Not knowing what more to do, I lay my head on her gently heaving bosom. I wished we could stay like that, one enveloped in the other and vice versa, for the rest of time. _

_"Trust yourself and.."_

_I looked into her eyes, pleading for her to finish her thought. Many seconds passed before she uttered a word. My heart was racing and my body felt about to give out at any moment. My wobbly knees and my troubled psyche could no longer support it._

_Her eyes brows bulged as they knit themselves into a line. "Trust them." _

_Once said, she promptly turned her back on me._

_

* * *

_

"Pacha cha!"

My body jolted upright and my feet began to move to the source of the squeals long before my fuzzy mind was able to process everything that was happening around me. Before long I had made it to a small clearing in forest. The trees were so tall and overbearing that they seemed to arch over me, like miserly old schoolteachers. My attention, however, was soon riveted towards what was unfolding in the center of the clearing.

"Pachirisu, you're mine! Go Teddiursa! Use fury swipes"

A stream of scarlet energy pooled at the feet of the young girl trainer with the messy bun and Gotta Catch 'Em All t-shirt as she looked upon her prey with a look of steely determination. Her right fist was clenched into a tight little ball and her left index finger pointed almost accusingly at the object of her desire. Teddiursa appeared with her paw deeply entrenched in her drooling mouth, taking a moment of pause before justly hurling herself at the Pachirisu.

Immediately I was struck by the appearance of that particular Pachirisu. I fancy that I had actually heard the sound of my leaden stomach as it fell to my feet. I looked on, mouth agape, powerless to do much of anything else but stand there and balk. The fluffy white pelt was all that I required to know that, in some outrageously twisted way, my dreams were actually coming true. Furthermore, I could bet a million dollars that this was the same Pachirisu that had given me that little _jolt_ that one time at the waterfall. If it were under different circumstances, I would not have restrained myself from reaching out to touch it, or even from calling out to it, but instead, I kept my distance. It was not my place to intervene, but at the same time, I couldn't help but to feel that something just wasn't right about the scene.

With all things consider, should not Pachirisu, _the pokémon of my dreams_, belong to me?

All that I knew was that Pachirisu, whether it had other plans in store or not, did not intend on becoming a part of Messy Bun Girl's team. He wasted no time in charging at Teddiursa, with its body bathed in an electric blue, on an intentional path towards a head-on collision. Teddiursa didn't stand a chance. It was knocked out in one blow. Pachirisu paused, its breathing tempered and even, awaiting the next move. Unfortunately for Messy Bun Girl, she did not have another move. I watched as, visibly spooked by this deceptively powerful creature, the girl scooped her fainted companion into her arms and made a Beedrill line back to the mansion. When I shifted my gaze back to its previous position, my body suddenly tensed up in a start once I saw that Pachirisu had trained his eyes upon me.

With twinkling eyes, Pachirisu made its approach with sure, confident steps. It rubbed its paws together and its tail flicked as it let out a soft "Pachaa." I wasn't quite sure of what I should do at the moment, but I knew that I had to do something.

Without a second thought, I said, "Pachirisu, it's me, Delphine."

Pachirisu nodded its head, as if in agreement.

He knew.

"I'm your old master's daughter," I continued, quite unsure of where these words were coming from, or even why I was only confirming what Pachirisu already seemed to know.

Pachirisu nodded again, moving in closer.

I exhaled deeply.

"Come to me," I whispered, reaching for my pokéball.

Pachirisu's eyes widened in excitement, though by the sparks flying from its cheeks, I couldn't quite tell what lay hidden beneath those eyes that shone like jewels.


End file.
